


Resurgence

by Starbuck0322



Series: Resurgence [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, But the Sex Follows, Ending Fix, Episode Fix-It: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager), F/M, Fix-It, I'm new here to AO3, New Author to Voyager, Post-Episode: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager), Romance, Sexy Times, first voyager fic, slow burn at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22017334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbuck0322/pseuds/Starbuck0322
Summary: Post-Endgame – Following their entry into the Alpha Quadrant from the transwarp corridor, Voyager is now safely docked above Earth. While the crew begin their slow descent to Earth,  Janeway contemplates life without her crew, returning to the life she left seven years ago, and what the future would hold for her.
Relationships: Chakotay & Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Series: Resurgence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743829
Comments: 97
Kudos: 206





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of my inspiration comes from song. You will find lyrics before every chapter introducing you to the tone of the chapter.
> 
> Used with the utmost respect and gratitude.

****

“ _I believe there is a distance I have wandered_ _  
_ _To touch upon the years of_ _  
_ _Reaching out and reaching in_ _  
_ _Holding out, holding in_ _  
_ _I believe_ _  
_ _This is heaven to no one else but me_ _  
_ _And I'll defend it as long as I can be_ _  
_ _Left here to linger in silence._

_If I choose to, would you try to understand?”_

_-Sarah McLachlan_

****

=/\=

She stared down at the glowing orb, perfectly round with hues of green and brown and blue and white. Perfection hovering in a sea of black with glittering stars, silently spinning.

“Hello, beautiful,” she said softly, and crossed her arms.

Captain Kathryn Janeway smiled to herself and continued her examination of the planet. Earth. Home. Finally, they were home.

She sighed and relished in the solitude she was gifted with the planet. The quiet of Voyager's Briefing Room humming in her ears, she was blessed with a free moment to reflect on the past few days, the past seven years.

Janeway closed her eyes. No matter how many years had passed since her feet touched soil, she could still remember the smell after a fresh rain. The way a warm summer's sun felt as it tanned her skin. The way a soft autumn breeze would play with her hair.

Home.

A tear fell innocently down her cheek but she was quick to dismiss it. Come on, Kathryn, she begged herself, deep breath. Just a few more days and she could finally let her shoulders fall. Just a few more minutes and she could finally provide her crew with their final mission.

She opened her eyes again and the Earth radiated. She beamed with life.

Lives were being lived below, memories being made, and she inhaled deeply, anxious to join them, and those they left behind.

Mark.

He was there.

With his wife.

And her dog.

She grimaced, thinking of an encounter she had not thought of until this moment.

But there was her sister. Her mother. And she smiled.

Mom, who had never been reassured by her daughter's love of exploration. Following in the footsteps of her father, with a love of science to guide her. Abandoning her love of the rolling fields and the clear blue skies for the unknown dangers of the universe. Home could not keep Kathryn tied down.

She had always wanted more. Discovery, her birthright. Science, an ally.

Oh, the stories she had to share with them now.

Alien races. Planets with mysterious illnesses. New territories. New friends. Some enemies. A Borg queen.

How old was her mother now? Janeway did the math. No, perhaps she would leave the Borg out of the conversation -- at least for now.

Janeway reached up to run her hands over her face. Time had finally caught up to her and she could feel the weight of its effect on her skin. She could feel it in her bones. She could see it reflected in the mirror in the corners of her eyes. The heaviness of the journey home was finally lifting and she was very much aware of its effects.

Janeway reached out to touch the frame of the viewport in front of her, and ran her fingers gently along the crisp edge. Her ship now safe in dry dock, morale on the ship had erupted in a plethora of celebrations, replicator rations now at an all time high. The mood was jubilant and the Captain praised at every turn.

But still, it brought a sadness which overwhelmed her now. It went without saying that Voyager had always been more than a Starfleet vessel. Her intention from the moment they became stranded was to create a living vessel full of life and love. A working vessel where they could, at times, blur the line between command and family.

And it had worked. Somehow they had made it across several quadrants to be right back where they started. And much quicker than they had anticipated. Years of travel had been erased in a moment by the transwarp corridor utilized by Admiral Janeway, her own self from the future. And now she had to face the fact that she would be losing her colleagues - her family off to tread the plains of Earth once more.

The weight hit her suddenly and her chest felt heavy. She pushed back the feeling with a sigh and closed her eyes. She was too deep in the process of calming her breath that she did not hear the first of her senior staff enter.

She opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder. Commander Chakotay had entered. His body upright, shoulders pressed, square jaw locked with worry. “Captain?”

“Commander.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“No." She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “Not at all.”

He moved across the floor to meet her, and folded his hands behind his back. “I take it we have our orders from Starfleet?”

“We do.” She turned her attention back to Earth, focused on one spot, watched it dance across the viewport. She placed a hand to her hip. “Mandatory quarantine,” and off his look of confusion. “I guess the powers that be are a little nervous of what Voyager might have stored away in her bulkheads.”

“And for good reason,” the Commander divulged. “We might have one or two microphages locked away somewhere just waiting for an unsuspecting Admiral.”

“Please.” She faked a shudder then held a hand up between them. “Don't remind me.”

Chakotay chuckled softly and turned to watch the Earth, happy to be sharing a quiet moment after the events of the last few days.

Janeway watched his face smooth as he took in the planet, watched the reflection of Earth's glow in his dark eyes. His strong jawline relaxed, most likely aware he was being observed by his Captain.

A fair distance they travelled, the Commander and his Captain. Seven years prior she didn't even know his name; this strange Maquis leader she was commissioned to reign in and return to Earth. To bring him to the steps of Starfleet Command, for a purpose they never truly told her.

But being stranded in the Delta Quadrant had other plans for Chakotay. From Maquis leader of a rebellion, to First Officer aboard a Starfleet vessel, facing the unknown, with a Captain he had just met.

And obediently he had taken up the role. Without hesitation or question, showing the true value of his leadership.

And how quickly they had grown together. How expertly they had created a new command structure of mismatched crews. How perfectly their friendship had grown in trust and openness.

Forever her loyal Chakotay.

Forever her friend.

“Almost unreal, isn't it?” he confessed, breaking the silence, pulling her from her thoughts. “I didn't think I would see it again.”

She nodded. “I'm not so sure I believed it myself.” She sighed. “True, the wanting was there. The determination. But to actually let myself believe we would be here.” She shook her head. “I'm not sure I allowed myself to revel in that possibility.” She placed a hand to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That doesn't leave this room.”

“Not that it matters now,” he paused, dipping his head, lowering his voice. “But your secret is safe with me.”

She smiled and crossed her arms. “You always did have my back.”

He looked up to find her eyes and smiled. “Always.”

He watched the lines form at the corners of her mouth as she smiled, lips pursing together, a new shade of deep red adorning them. Her features seemed gentler in this moment. A quiet bond built between them, he wondered what was treading through her mind now, what troubles she was enduring, which ones he could ease.

As if sensing his thoughts, she rolled her eyes upward and shook her head.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

She looked down at her hands, meticulously played with a finger. “I don't know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Say goodbye... to the crew.”

She looked up at him, eyes dancing, searching his face for answers, but she could see he had none to offer. He too looked bewildered.

“Seven years,” she began. “And I feel we still haven't had enough time together. The family is breaking up, Chakotay.” Stress hit her face, and her eyes began to well. “Forever.”

For a slight moment, Chakotay saw weakness flash across her face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Captain Janeway had never been afraid of anything. She could greet a new alien race with ease and grace. Could battle against an alien vessel who possessed a larger hull and weapons and come out on top.

She could outsmart a Borg Queen and win.

But now standing on the edge of the unknown, what she thought would be her future suddenly changed, she was uneasy with the uncertainty it possessed. And even now, standing in front of her First Officer, she wondered what lay before him, what journey was he about to partake in, a journey without her.

There was only one thing she was certain about her future, and that was Starfleet.

A hesitant hand reached out to hold her arm, and for a moment she was taken aback.

Chakotay had always kept his hands from her, as touching the Captain was something he would not allow himself to do. On occasion they had shared a moment, stood too closely, eyes lingering too long. Once or twice he had held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, but it had always been her that had initiated it; always on her terms. But all his intentions were fading now, and he wanted her in his arms.

She cast a solemn smile as he pulled her gently toward him, and instead of meeting her resistance, she obliged and slowly walked into his arms, resting her cheek hesitantly against his shoulder. Slowly, his hands made their way to her back, her uniform freshly pressed under his palm. Her shoulders still square, breath held for a moment, until she moved, her arms carefully wrapping around him.

She released an exhale and he moved one hand to rest at her neck. Her soft hair danced playfully across his hand as he soothed her.

“It's all right,” he reassured. “We still have some time with them. We don't have to say goodbye yet.”

 _We_.

He squeezed her tightly and when he finally released her, she backed away, bringing her hands to her face.

She waved him off. “You're right.”

They looked up, finally noticing that a new figure had entered the room, witnessing their embrace. Seven of Nine raised an eyebrow and Janeway was quick to note a shared look between Chakotay and Seven. He offered a slight smile.

“Seven.” She waved a hand toward a chair. “Have a seat.”

“Captain.”

In a wave of exuberance, thick within a heated argument the remaining senior staff entered. Ensign Harry Kim and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok entered together, Harry's hands alive with excitement as he explained his point to the Vulcan. Tuvok remained straight-faced, lips tight, motionless as he stared down the young ensign from his heightened intellect.

Janeway smiled. She was going to miss them.

Last to enter was Lieutenant Tom Paris and Janeway was quick to rush across the room.

“Oh, Tom!” she exclaimed. “How is our new addition to the family?”

“She's great, Captain,” he said accepting her hug. “A healthy set of lungs on her. No doubt a trait from her mother.”

They shared a chuckle and the group dispersed. Janeway placed a hand to Tom's arm.

“How is B'Elanna?” the Captain continued.

“She is good. Tired, but good.” He rubbed his eyes. “We're both a little drained. A little anxious to get home to be honest.”

“That's what this is about, isn't it?” Harry interjected. “Can we pack our bags now, Captain? I know my folks can't wait to find out.”

Janeway lowered her head and walked to take her seat at the head of the table. The Commander took a seat to her left. Seven sat down beside him.

“We have received orders from Starfleet. A last mission, if you will.” She looked up at the confused faces, shoulders pressing back, perfectly square. “Starfleet Command has placed us under a mandatory quarantine.”

She paused, allowed the groans that filled the room to die off before continuing.

“I know.” She inhaled. “I wish I had better news, but Voyager has been through a lot and so has her crew. They want to take every precaution. They are simply unsure what troubles could have arose within these bulkheads. What it might mean, before they lower her home."

She choked, and cleared her throat quietly.

“How long is this supposed to take?” inquired Harry.

“They estimate a minimum of 30 days,” and off a stern look given by Chakotay towards their crew, “These are special circumstances and as such, I expect my senior staff to set the example to the rest of the crew. We will continue with our maximum replicator rations. The Holodeck has been set and will be running around the clock. This is our last mission. Let's make it a successful one.”

She looked around the room, as her orders set in on their faces, as eyes reached her in agreement -- always so obedient. Pride beamed from her face, resonated within her voice as she stood.

“You are the finest crew to have ever graced a Starfeet vessel. The finest crew to have ever worn this uniform. You have brought respect and honor to this vessel and you have served her tremendously.” Her voice began to shake. “It has been an honor serving as your Captain, and I will forever be eternally grateful to have served with you.”

She blinked back tears. “Dismissed.”

One by one, the senior staff began to vacate the room. Janeway remained standing, head bowed, hand trembling slightly against the table. A single tear escaped from her attempts to quiet it and trailed down her cheek.

Chakotay moved his hand to reach for her, carefully taking her hand, holding it steady with his. She looked to him, and closed her eyes offering him a slight nod of reassurance, a squeeze to his hand in return.

It was a tender moment, silently being observed from behind the frame of the open door, by a former drone, piecing together what she was witnessing.

=/\=

When the room fell silent again, Janeway wiped her face and turned toward the viewport. She crossed her arms, and looked over her shoulder to Chakotay who was still seated.

“They will be relieving me of my Captaincy,” she said bluntly. She lowered her gaze back to the Earth. “Rear Admiral. They call it a promotion.”

His eyes widened. “Rear Admiral is hardly a demotion.”

She scoffed. “An errand-boy. A glorified desk job.”

He stood up and moved to stand beside her. Hands behind his back again, assuming his role as First Officer. “You could refuse. You wouldn't be the first Captain to do so.”

“I somehow feel refusing is out of the option.” Her hands moved to her face and she ran them down her cheeks, hands motioning. “How did they put it?” Her face tightened and her brow furrowed as she recalled. Her voice now altered, lowered. “Kathryn, your contributions to Starfleet have been monumental in the vast knowledge we now have for the unknown. Your mapping of the Delta Quadrant has brought great honor to this Command and we are pleased to promote you to Rear Admiral. Your knowledge of this region will--” she paused racking her brain. “Or something like that. To be honest, I stopped listening after 'rear admiral'.”

“Sounds comfy.”

“Sounds boring.”

Chakotay straightened his back. “I wouldn't say so. You're soon to be the youngest Fleet Admiral in all of Starfleet History.”

She smiled and looked up to him, eyes brimming with tears. “Funny.”

“It's not a joke.”

She looked away again, afraid to show him any remaining tears that may threaten to fall. “All I've ever wanted was to fly with the stars. Seventy-five long years and a final resting place out there, turned into seven short years and a return voyage.”

He sighed. “It's a lot to take in.”

“I'm not sure if I can.” She shook her head downheartedly.

Chakotay turned his gaze toward her. Crystal blues now looked out beyond the Earth to the dense array of stars that glittered in the distance. Aged light beamed towards them, begging a Captain to join them once more.

Her sadness was apparent. The turmoil gripped her features as she attempted to make sense of the course set before her. She longed for reassurance, longed for direction.

She was grieving -- aching for the life she thought she had, for the time she thought she had left.

Chakotay put an arm around her. He waited for her breath to ease before he continued. “Whatever the future holds for you, you will no doubt give it the same amount of devotion you gave this mission.”

She tilted her head towards him, comforted by the weight of his arm across her shoulders. “I don't know what to do,” she confessed. Her voice was a whisper, frightened by her realization.

“Take your time,” he reassured her. His voice lowered as he dipped his head, lips inches from her ear. “I just know the stars won't be the same without you.”

=/\=

* * *

Coming soon: Chapter 2 - "Say Something" - Ian Axel, Chad King, and Mike Campbell


	2. Resolution

****

“ _Say something, I'm giving up on you  
I'll be the one, if you want me to  
Anywhere, I would've followed you  
Say something, I'm giving up on you.”_

_\- Ian Axel, Chad King, and Mike Campbell_

****

Seven of Nine entered sickbay. She searched the room expertly. It was calm and quiet, much unlike the rest of the vessel. “Computer,” she began. “Please initiate emergency medical holographic program.”

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” beamed a familiar voice behind her.

Seven turned to face the EMH. She raised an eyebrow.

“You were offline,” she said unimpressed.

“Hello, Seven,” the Doctor sang. “As chipper as ever, I see.” The Doctor picked up a PADD and moved toward her, fingers skillfully working the small device in his hand. “The Captain had suggested I remain offline to allow for my transfer to the planet.” He sighed. “Quite lonely, I tell you. It appears I have grown accustomed to the constant interruptions.” His fingers continued to work away on the instrument. “How are the crew?”

“Doctor, while I appreciate your longing for organic companionship, this is an inefficient use of my time.”

He looked up from his work. “Apologies, Seven,” he began. “What has brought you to my expert care, this afternoon?”

Seven crossed to a biobed and took a seat. “I require an adjustment.”

The Doctor moved towards his instruments and picked up his medical tricorder and scanner. He raised his head, chin elevated, eyes focussing on her. “I must say you're a welcome surprise.” He could tell the former drone was in no mood for small talk – no more than usual. His head tilted, features softening, a trait he had adapted into his program over the course of his time on Voyager-- a key to his bedside manner. “Now, where do you require this adjustment?”

“To my ocular implant and cortical processor.

He narrowed his eyes quizzically and began to scan her, focusing on the tricorder and its readings. The device beeped and sang cheerfully. His brow furrowed and then relaxed. He closed the tricorder. “I am happy to report a complete bill of health, Seven. Ocular implant and processor in fine working order,” he completed with an air of pride.

“Unacceptable,” Seven said matter-of-factly. “Complete the scan again."

The Doctor raised one eyebrow and sighed. He began another scan of her ocular implant, examining the back of her head, taking his time moving down her body. He smiled to himself.

“And your results?” she inquired.

“The same,” he started, slowly closing the device again. “But I am detecting higher levels of a neuropeptide,” and off her confusion, “Oxytocin to be precise. A peptide hormone normally produced in the hypothalamus and released by the posterior pituitary.”

“I am familiar,” she said annoyed. “Could it be affecting my processor?”

He turned to his instruments tray. “Hormones are widely known to affect all aspects of the human form.” He carefully placed the tricorder back in its place, meticulously straightening a hypospray so it was in perfect alignment with the rest of his tools. “Is there something you would like to discuss?”

Seven stood from the biobed and clasped her hands behind her back. She tilted her head. “Define, Love.”

The Doctor raised his chin toward her. “Love; an intense feeling of deep affection,” he recited. “But there are many versions, as we have reviewed in the past.”

“Continue.”

“Well, on Earth, the Ancient Greeks were students of love, so to speak. There was Agape – an unconditional love; Eros – a Romanic love; Philia – an affectionate love, my personal favorite, --”

“Do these Ancient Greeks discuss a one-sided love?” she interrupted.

“Ah.” His eyes widened as her inquiry began to make sense. “Unrequited love.”

“Yes.”

“A one-sided affection not reciprocated by the beloved. A painful experience, full of deep, strong affection.” He lowered his eyes from Seven.

“Hurt within love,” she remarked.

“You could say that.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Seven moved toward the exit.

“You are most welcome.” The Doctor moved to a console and reached for his mobile emitter. “Seven?” he began as she reached the doorway.

“Yes, Doctor?”

The Doctor stepped toward her and she turned to face him. “I want you to know, that I will miss our information sessions. I have grown quite fond of our little discussions.”

“As have I, Doctor. I thank you for your assistance.”

He smiled with admiration at his pupil. “You have been a most exemplary student. The world will be lucky to know you.”

Her features softened slightly, and her head tilted with respect. She raised a hand and touched his cheek. “I have had a most exquisite instructor.”

The moment seemed to last longer than they intended. Finally, her hand fell from his cheek. “Would you like me to turn off your program?”

“No, thank you, Seven.” The Doctor raised his chin. “I will do so later. I believe I am in need of a walk.”

And as she turned in the hallway, disappearing from sight, the EMH brought a hand slowly to his cheek, holding onto the warmth she left behind from her human touch.

=/\=

The door to the mess hall on Deck 2 opened as Janeway approached it. Her footsteps were heavy from the day's long process of exit interviews and the questions she was bombarded with, and from her struggle with writing her report to Starfleet.

By the end of her day, the heaviness of goodbye had resonated within her bones, and deep within her chest. Her feet were sore. Her back ached. She was ready for conversation that didn't involve regurgitated Starfleet memoranda. She was ready for companionship.

  
“Captain!” several members of the crew exclaimed in unison. She offered a slight wave.

Tom was the first to reach her. He was dressed in a dark blue, Hawaiian shirt with hibiscus print and khaki shorts, slide sandals on his feet. A vision of a father letting loose.

He carried a stemmed glass and was quick to swerve through the thick crowd. All eyes on Janeway - the newly appointed celebrity.

  
Tom turned again, quickly picking up an additional glass. “Here you are, Captain.” He smelled the contents. “I believe it's cider. Or something like that. It was delivered to the ship from Starfleet.”

She took the glass from his hand. “Thank you.” She smelled the contents approvingly and took a sip. Her brow raised.

“It's good, right?”

“Very.”

“Just what the doctor ordered.”

Tom looked up from his Captain to a small group that had gathered around them, eager to divulge the Captain in conversation. She was unaware of the crowding, but he took her by the shoulder, and pulled her toward a smaller group. Janeway took another sip.

Harry looked up as they approached. “Captain!” he exclaimed and joined Tom by placing his arm awkwardly around her shoulders, pulling her a bit too close to his body. “Will you be joining us?” and before she could answer, “On Holodeck 2, I-I- mean,” the Ensign stammered. “There's a party. Not a raucous party. More of a light gathering. But not too light. It should be fun. But safely within regulations. I'm sure."

Tom took Harry's hand and removed his arm from Janeway. “What Harry is trying to do is expressly invite you to Holodeck 2. Neelix's Paxau Resort program is up and running.”

Janeway smiled, pleased with the chosen program used for the Holodeck. “Neelix would be proud.”

“So what do you say, Captain?” Harry continued, replacing his arm around the her shoulders. Tom was quick to remove them a second time. He shot Harry a glare, mouthing, "Just stop."

Janeway shook her head. "While visiting Paxau does sound like a formidable idea, it's been a _very_ long day."

"But, Captain," Tom began. "Paxau sounds exactly like what you need." He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and raised his glass in front of them, painting the picture for her. "A moonlit night. The sky thick with stars. The sound of crashing waves in the distance. The soft playing of the live band. A never-ending drink in your hand. A tall, dark, tattooed hunk on your arm--"

Tom stopped short. Harry's eyes widened with worry. Janeway's cheeks flushed slightly.

"OK, we can scratch the tattoo. Alter him to your exact specifications." The air grew still. "Did I mention the crashing waves?" he added.

"It sounds wonderful, but-"

"Captain," Tom interjected. "When's the last time you got out of your Starfleet regalia, put your feet up, and relaxed? When's the next time we will all be together?" He sighed, lowering his eyes. "Besides, you will miss B'Elanna."

"I will?"

"And she said she is bringing the baby," Tom sang.

"She is?" Janeway's voice altered, raising in pitch, abundant with excitement.

He motioned toward the doors of the mess hall. "Your lounger awaits."

Janeway smiled, teeth showing, and grabbed the zipper of her uniform jacket, lowering it. She raised her arms out. “Let the party begin!”

Members of the crew who had been eavesdropping erupted in a chorus of hoots and hollers and Janeway watched as several of them left the room jubilantly, heading toward the Holodeck. Harry and Tom, arms linked together, joined them, quickly refreshing their glasses as they left.

Janeway peered around the room. Only a few crew members were left. One young ensign looked up from a couch, book in hand, and rolled her eyes at the noisy group exiting.

Janeway took another sip, placed her glass in the replicator for recycling, and turned to the door. It opened with ease and she began her walk to the turbolift. It was time to freshen up, and shed her 'regalia' before joining the rest of her crew.

She ran her hands over her face as she walked. She was in dire need of a hot shower, to get out of her boots.

There was little to do at the moment besides avoid writing her report. She longed for distraction from all the goodbyes she had to endure during the day. Final duty schedules had been handed out by her Commander three days prior. It had been the last time she saw Chakotay, his presence scarce now.

It was conjuring up the cruelty of what was to come in the future – days without him.

She had grown accustomed to their daily meeting first thing in the morning. He would be there waiting for her in her ready room, coffee replicated, ready to present his report on the day's schedules, ship maintenance, and discussions he completed with the heads of department.

The truth was if it had not been for Chakotay she would not have known the crew as intimately as she did. He was an invaluable part of the bridging of the two crews. He garnered respect, and respect was given. Without Chakotay their family surely would have fallen apart.

Her perfect other.

The Captain sighed feeling the weight in her shoulders. She lifted a hand to her neck and began to massage it.

Her final meeting with Chakotay was brief. It was apparent the Commander had other things on his mind.

Perhaps it was his own uncertainty -- the unknown that awaited him in his debriefings with Starfleet. His own future gripped by anxiety.

Perhaps it was a desire for a return to normalcy, to give up the daily disarray of the uncharted.

Perhaps it was a beautiful blonde ready to take her first steps on Earth. A hand he could hold and guide. A new life he could make with her.

Perhaps.

And when she entered her ready room a day later, no coffee awaited her. Nothing but a silence that filled her with an aching emptiness. The first she had felt in years.

Yes, her familiar was about to change.

Janeway's daily routine was the sadness that came from goodbyes. 

She reached the turbolift and pressed the call button. A feeling of disconnect was reaching her brow -- a feeling she was unaccustomed to. The doors opened and she looked up.

“Captain,” Chakotay greeted, and stepped off the turbolift.

“Commander.” Finally their paths had crossed. “Where have you been hiding?” she remarked. “I haven't seen you in days.”

Chakotay lowered his gaze to her relaxed attire. Jacket open. Starfleet standard issue grey tee showing. “I'm sorry. I've been busy.” He motioned down the hallway. “I was just on my way to the mess hall.”

“If you are looking for the party, they have moved it to Holodeck 2.”

“Party?”

“Several members of the crew are running Neelix's program.” She smiled, teeth showing. “There is this cider. It's really quite good. A gift from Starfleet by the sounds of it.”

“Very nice.” Chakotay looked down the hall.

“Commander, you seem to be in need of refreshment.” She moved her body, tilting her head, attempting to get his attention. Her brow raised. “Would you join me?”

He seemed preoccupied, in search of something, or someone.

“We can catch up on the past few days,” she continued, looking to his combadge, up to his lips. “I have missed our morning meetings.” Her tone had an air of command and she was proud of her ability to hide the wanting she had within.

He turned his attention toward her and dipped his head, avoiding her eyes. “I'm sorry, Captain. I can't say if I will be attending.”

“Please, reconsider,” she said reaching out to place a hand to his shoulder, turning his gaze to her hand. “It has been a hard day. I'm exhausted. I'm in need of a friend.” Her words were heavy this time, suddenly thick with sadness, her composure failing her. Her hand ran down his arm and left him.

He remained quiet.

“Commander, do tell. A penny for your thoughts.”

“I'm looking for someone.”

“Seven?”

“Yes,” the Commander acknowledged nervously, relieved by his confession.

And there it was. It was true. The pairing the Admiral had told her about had started. For how long, she was unsure. He had always told her everything.

Sorrow was growing inside her, gripping her core. Pang brought on by his betrayal.

As if reading her thoughts, he took her by the upper arm, hand carefully moving down to reach her elbow. The gesture was warm and it softened her features. “I'm sorry, Kathryn. I should have told you.”

She shook her head. “It's fine, Chakotay.” Pushing her emotions down, she moved her arm, pulling herself from his touch, and with an exhale, “It's good. I'm happy for you.”

He offered a light nod at her words, eyes falling from her face, to the pips that adorned her collar. “It was completely innocent,” he confessed further. “I don't think either of us knew what was happening.”

“For how long?” she inquired, unsure if she wanted to know the answer, afraid his deception had surpassed weeks, months.

“It was something that just started.” He stared at the floor. “She is probably the last person I saw myself with.”

 _And who would be the first?_ she wondered.

They had discussed it on several occasions – the parameters of their relationship. Meticulously dancing around the subject. At the crux, Starfleet and her ongoing adherence to command regulations and protocol. The truth that she did not have the freedom to pursue a relationship. A desire she thought about at times, after long days, returning to her empty quarters. When human desire, and a longing for comfort overwhelmed her. Could she pad softly to his room, and crawl into the safety of his arms? Would it end there?

If there was anyone on the ship who would know how to hold her, Chakotay was the one.

But lines could not be crossed. The order of command her mantra. A life devoid of romantic love something she had grown accustomed to.

And she was happy to have him by her side. A friendship she was quickly discovering she could not live without.

But the truth was, he needed someone. Someone who could give him more than she could.

“Have you seen her?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She held back the desire to clear her throat, afraid it would give her away. She turned and pressed the call button for the turbolift. “Locked away with her studies, I presume.”

“Computer,” the Commander began, and the familiar chime resonated. “Locate Seven of Nine.”

_Seven of Nine is in Astrometrics._

His voice lowered. “Oh, _you're_ _good._ ”

Janeway raised her hands outward. “I am the Captain.”

The door opened to the lift and Janeway entered, followed by Chakotay.

“Deck 3,” Janeway instructed and turned her attention to her Commander. “Are you all right, Chakotay?” she asked earnestly.

“It's nothing, Captain. Nothing at all.”

“You sure?” she continued, her voice soft with concern.

The door opened on Deck 3 and Janeway stepped off.

“You are right. Today was hard. Enjoy the party.” He smiled. “Deck 8.”

She returned a slight smile as the door to the lift closed, leaving Chakotay to continue his search.

=/\=

Chakotay entered through the door of Astrometrics to find his intended standing at her controls, busily motioning across the screens in front of her.

He noticed her hands stop for a second as he entered the room. As if it were possible, her shoulders straightened even more.

“There you are. You have been avoiding me.”

“I have not,” Seven of Nine said matter-of-factly. “I have been engrossed in my work.”

“What are you working on?” he sang happily. “Anything I can help you with?”

“On top of assisting the Captain with her lengthy report to Starfleet, she thought it best I complete diagnostics and reports to present to Starfleet Command for my debriefing.”

“Can you take a break?”

“I can not.” She turned her attention to the screen behind her. “The Captain has notified me that my return to the planet will be delayed. She has requested she be present on my arrival to Starfleet Command."

“More of a reason to take a break.”

“The Captain requires this data.”

The ever obedient Seven of Nine. If there was one thing the former drone could handle was taking orders and adhering to her obligations in a systematic routine of agility and precision. He was starting to see there would be little he could do to tear her away from her work.

“We have reached Earth, Seven. The Captain has given us leave.” He reached out to take her hands from her work. “I thought we could use this time to get to know each other better. Start fresh.”

Without looking at him, Seven pulled her hands from his and continued, keeping her back to him. “And what would that do, Commander?”

 _Commander_. He sighed. “Here we go again.”

“Yes, we go again.”

Her words had rarely affected him. Her motions, her robotic stance, the same monotone drawl infused in her speech. But he knew she intended to be cold toward him now. Ice was lining the words as they fell from her mouth.

“Seven, we discussed this.”

“You discussed this, Commander.”

“I'm not giving up on you.”

“Regulation dictates you should.

“Look at me.” He reached up to place a palm to her cheek. She pulled away from him again. “What are you talking about?” He took her hand, gripped it tightly. “I'm not letting you go this easy. You will talk to me.”

“Is that an order?”

“No, Seven. It's a request. Please. Talk to me.”

She met his eyes. The glow of her alcove, green in his dark eyes. “And what more do you want me to say?” Her voice began to rise with emotion and he was taken aback.

“We are home safe.”

“You are home.”

He sighed again. “And you are too. Finally, you can come home.” He paused. “Come home with me, Seven. If you are nervous, we will tackle it together.”

“I am unable to comply.”

“Why?” And as she tried to turn from him, he groaned, realizing he was losing the argument. He followed her as she moved to a panel on the wall. “You really are ending this, aren't you?”

“You are correct.” She tilted her head to the side. “But for a different reason that has been recently brought to my attention.”

“Which is?”

“You are in love with Captain Janeway.”

Chakotay scoffed, then off her face which remained expressionless, “You're serious.”

“You are in love with the Captain. Confirm or deny.”

“Seven...” he trailed. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. “Whatever you might be thinking--”

“Confirm or deny.”

“I've... I...” he stammered.

Put on the spot, words failed him, and he cursed himself for letting her interrogation aggravate him.

For seven years, he had kept his composure. For seven years, he had bottled how he felt. Kept his shoulders square. Been the dutiful First Officer -- a servant to her command.

He had never met anyone like her. She demanded obedience from a faith she had for each member of her crew and their abilities. She demanded honor and adherence, but from a mutual respect you felt deep within yourself. Janeway loved her crew, and her crew loved her in return.

And it was easy for Chakotay to respect her from the moment he came on board. From the moment she took in the Maquis and told him how it would be.

And there was no one else he would rather follow.

She looked deep within him and knew exactly where he would fit aboard her vessel. She was the first one outside the Maquis who looked at him and saw his potential. Saw his strengths, accepted his weaknesses.

The truth was, she saved him - his warrior woman.

So many times he would look at her seated beside him, her eyes focused on the journey ahead through the view screen, and get lost in thoughts of her. His eyes moving across her features, her eyes, her lips, her strong jawline. How it would feel to take her face in his hands, her lips with his. How it would be to take her in his arms and devour her, let her completely take him under.

Loving her was easy. Hiding it, his turmoil. And now Seven had uncovered his truth, and unravelled his intentions with seven little words.

“Confirm or deny,” her tone was icy now. The words fell from her lips, slow and steady.

His shoulders lowered. He looked down to his hands and inhaled. “Confirm.”

Seven lowered her eyes and a slight smile came to the corner of her mouth, a look of pride at her understanding of human interaction, perhaps what the rest of the crew had already suspected. She looked up at him, unafraid to reach his gaze.

“I didn't mean to fall in love with her,” he choked back. “I think I tried hard not to.”

She tilted her head again, eyes unblinking. “Have you informed the Captain of this?”

He chuckled softly. “No. Never.” He gripped the sides of his pants and rubbed his sweaty palms against the material, now aware of the change of his perspiration and his heart rate which continued to increase. “It has only ever been a fool's dream. She would never...”

He trailed on but Seven knew what he was going to say. “I would not say so, Commander.” She ran a single palm over the side of her hair as if to perfect the already perfect. “I have spent many hours observing and cataloguing your interactions with the Captain.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” she clasped her hands behind her back, shoulders pressed. “It was an assignment set out by the Doctor. So I could have a better grasp on human displays of affection.”

“And this included your commanding officers?”

“It did.” Seven titled her head. “I can confirm there are more than simple words shared in your daily interactions with the Captain.”

“I'm afraid I don't share your same observations,” he scoffed.

“There are glances you have missed, Commander,” she began. “The small touches you failed to properly appreciate. Her invitations to late night dinners, to moonlit walks on the Holodeck. The Captain trusted you like no other to share these experiences with.”

Her shook his head. “She is my friend.”

Seven smiled. “She loves you.”

He lowered his head, unable to get her to see his point. “Seven, our friendship from the outside might look like romantic love, but it isn't.”

“You are only blinded by your emotions, Chakotay. You fail to see the truth.”

"Which is?” his voice raised.

“Unrequited love,” she began honestly. “A one-sided affection not reciprocated by the beloved. A painful experience, full of deep, strong affection.”

“So you _do_ believe it to be one-sided as well then.”

“No. I do not.” She tilted her head and adjusted her balance. “The Captain has a stressful position. And she has held her position with grace and determination. She could not allow herself to engage in a heated love affair, even if she wanted to. To do anything less would be inefficient and would not be part of the Captain's qualities.” She paused. “The Captain has a strong sense of morale and a respect for authority, but now, faced with the end of her mission, soon to be stripped of her crew, and captaincy, she will be open to pursue relationships.”

Chakotay's mouth opened, jaw pressing forward. “How did you know about her captaincy?”

“Observations.”

“Right.” Chakotay smiled slightly. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Mating is hardly difficult. Once aroused, the man merely has to engage with the woman--”

“Yes, I am familiar with the ease of the act. But the lead up to that...” His lips pressed tightly together. “You have a lot to learn.”

“Curious. Humans are always so engaged in their own feeble emotions. It is you that have a lot to learn.” She placed a hand to his arm. “Take the risk, Commander. You merely have to ask her.”

_The Doctor to Commander Chakotay._

He sighed and waited. Seven remained silent.

_Commander Chakotay, come in._

“Go ahead,” he said.

_Can I see you on Holodeck 2?_

“Can it wait?” Chakotay asked.

_I'm afraid it can't. It's the Captain._

Chakotay's heart sank and he looked up at Seven who raised an eyebrow.

“You need to go,” she said.

“I can't now.” He reached out to hold her arm gently. “What about you?”

“My feelings are irrelevant.”

“Don't say that.”

He filled the space between them and reached out. She complied with his movement and allowed a final hug. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I would have followed you," she said softly. "And I might have been happy. For a time."

"I'm so sorry, Seven."

"I know."

They broke from their hug and he placed a single kiss to her ocular implant, carefully, sweetly.

“Go to your Captain, Commander.” She tilted her head and it retained a drone-like quality to the movement. Emotionless. Mechanical. “You must comply. It is the only logical course of action.”

Chakotay placed a palm to Seven's cheek and held it. “You know,” he said, looking into her blue eyes. “I believe you have completed your training with the Doctor. I believe you have surpassed us all.”

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 3 - "Make You Feel My Love" - Bob Dylan


	3. Daybreak

****

“ _I know you haven't made your mind up yet_ _  
_ _But I will never do you wrong_ _  
_ _I've known it from the moment that we met_ _  
_ _No doubt in my mind where you belong.”_

_\- Bob Dylan_

****

=/\=

The holodeck was thick with talk and excitement as Chakotay entered through the sliding door. People milled happily. Two crew members were cuddled holding hands on a lounge chair to his right. Dancing was everywhere. Glasses clinked, the energy electric.

Neelix's program was the most exuberant he had ever seen, something that would have made the ship's former Ambassador proud.

Chakotay looked up just as the Doctor approached him. He was short of breath, his face worrisome.

"There you are, Commander."

"Yes, what's the emergency, Doctor?"

"It's the Captain."

"What's wrong?"

"Well, she has been dipping into the cocktails...," the Doctor started.

“Is that all?” Chakotay returned, annoyed.

The Doctor gasped, crushed by the Commander's aloofness. “But she's the Captain!”

“Doctor, we're home,” he returned matter-of-factly. “There's no mission. I'm sure she can afford to let her hair down and relax for one evening.”

“That's not all she's let down,” the Doctor remarked quietly.

Chakotay strained to hear him over the loud music and chatter. “I'm sorry?”

“But what will the crew say?” the Doctor continued, adding to his argument.

“The crew is diminishing daily. They are going home.”

“And what about Starfleet Command?”

Chakotay sighed. The Doctor was not going to let this go. “I'll see what I can do.” He patted the Doctor on his shoulder as reassurance. “But she hardly needs a babysitter.” Chakotay directed the Doctor to lead the way.

He followed him past the bar and pool, and smiled seeing a young couple locked in a heated kiss. The Doctor led him to a quiet corner hidden behind two leaning palm trees, no doubt a recent addition by Harry and Tom.

Through hanging sheer curtains, Chakotay could make out the silhouettes of figures seated, aligned on couches surrounding a lit fire.

The Doctor moved aside to pull back the break in the curtain, and it opened to reveal the Captain, curled in a corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, hidden under the flowered print sundress she adorned.

She was engaged with the group before her, hands motioning through her speech. He couldn't follow what she was saying but Tom and Harry clung to her every word. They laughed together and she tilted her head back revealing her long neck line which plummeted past the soft curves of her cleavage. Her eyes had turned to the stars in the sky of the holodeck, and she stared mouth open in awe.

Chakotay approached the group moving around the stonework fire pit, and Tom and Harry stood.

"Chakotay!" Tom greeted energetically. "Welcome to the party!" His words flooded, stumbled from his lips. "Somebody get this man a drink!" he hollered to no one in particular.

"No, thank you," Chakotay added, his sights returning to the Captain as she slowly turned her head to look toward them. Lit torches were on spikes surrounding the seating area, and her glossy eyes danced. The dim light played across her milky skin.

"But I insist," Tom patted Chakotay on his chest. "Starfleet sent us the good stuff. You name it; we have it."

"I see that." He took Tom by the shoulders. "You might want to see the Doctor before calling it a night, Tom,” and with a pat to his arm, "Would you excuse us?"

Tom and Harry gave each other a look and motioned to the other young ensigns surrounding the pit. “Come on,” Tom ordered.

Janeway leaned forward, arms reaching out to the crowd as they left through the curtain. "No! Where is everyone going?"

Tom looked over his shoulder. "I think Chakotay is breaking up the party, Captain." He turned and shrugged.

Janeway shot a glance to Chakotay as the Commander took a seat beside her. "Who gives the orders around here?" she asked with disdain.

"You do."

She narrowed her eyes drunkenly. "Then the party continues." She lifted her glass, the liquid swirled and she took a sip. He watched her lips leave the glass. "But honestly, Chakotay, you should have one of these. Whatever it is, they are quite good." She drained the remaining liquid.

"I can see that." He smiled at her and reached across her body toward her hand. She smelled of liquor and perfume and it immersed his senses with longing. She moved her hand further, keeping the glass out of his reach, but he moved closer to lean across her, finally taking it from her.

"You really are breaking up the party, aren't you?" she slurred, and moved to rest her head in her hand, elbow perched on the edge of the couch.

"You have an early day tomorrow, Captain." He placed the glass on the raised, flat stone that surrounded the fire.

"Can I not make my own schedule?"

He smiled. "I'm just looking out for you."

"Of course you are."

She leaned toward him and shifted her weight, pulling her body beside his from the comfort of the corner. She grinned, eyes lowering to his lips, and her head dipped until it rested on his shoulder. Her hand moved to his leg and rested palm up, inviting. "Chakotay… My Number One."

Her tone had softened and it gripped his middle. He chuckled quietly and turned his head toward her. Her hair was light against his cheek. "You've never called me that."

"No," she agreed, inching her hand toward his. "But you are." She sighed softly.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, lifting her head, turning to hit his chest. "You missed B'Elanna!"

"I did?" He rubbed where she hit him.

"Mmhmm," she purred. "And she brought the baby."

"I'm sorry to have missed them,” he said honestly. "I'm glad you finally got to see her."

"She is the tiniest thing, Chakotay. She smells so good."

"Makes you want one of your own?"

"Ha!" she blurted. "I've had enough children on this ship to last five lifetimes."

They shared a laugh and Chakotay stole a glance of her dress and followed the light material down her body which clung to her curves.

"Did you find, Seven?" she asked. Her voice had lowered, was almost a whisper, and she looked down to fidget with a finger.

"I did."

She looked up to search what she could of the room. "Is she here?" she asked.

"No. She is engrossed in her studies, as you predicted."

She turned to him, catching his eyes wandering down her neckline. Her chest rose quickly. "And you're here now?"

"I am."

He looked down at her hand which returned to his leg, and she slowly turned her palm upward again. She lowered her head to his shoulder.

He moved his hand to reach hers, his fingertips playfully touching her soft skin. Palms met and their fingers entwined.

He looked down at their hands as she released a heavy sigh.

How perfectly it fit with his. How delicate her long fingers wrapped his hand. Nails freshly manicured, he coursed his thumb over one finger and played carefully.

These hands -- how he would watch them while she spoke, always alluring with expression. How he would long for them to touch his shoulder. How he would envision them reaching out for him in the night, meeting his skin with tenderness.

He continued his examination. Eyes closed, all lines on her face relaxed. No stress hit her features and he smiled.

Her scent was intoxicating and her body a vision of creamy skin, and softness.

And here he held her hand, as her body recovered beside him, her weight increasingly lowering as she drifted.

He moved his head, dropped to the side to feel her hair against his cheek, taking her in. She curled closer, bringing her free hand to his inner elbow to tether to his body.

It was a quiet corner in the program and the Doctor was now off busily attending to crew members who were feeling the effects of Starfleet's gift.

Janeway sighed softly and began to move her fingers slightly, brushing against his tenderly, mirroring his gesture.

He could tell she was deep in her daydream.

He closed his eyes and let the warmth of her body take him under. He inhaled deeply for what felt like the first time in many long years.

The music was beginning to fade away; just the sound of her breathing filling his ears.

They were quiet, enjoying each other's presence. A single moment where nothing was expected of them. Nothing was needed to be said.

And he was happy to have the gift of her hand, feel her body pressing into his for the first time. She was comforting the loneliness within him, and providing him with a sense of calm. Curing him with each soothing sigh of the longing to be a shoulder to rest against, to share the burden she had felt for so long.

Someone cleared their throat close to them, but he ignored it, continued in his daydream.

"Ahem," the Doctor said and Chakotay opened his eyes to find him standing across the fire pit. "Commander?" he whispered.

Chakotay stirred and he looked down at Janeway who moved, opening her eyes sleepily.

"Let's get you back to your quarters, Captain," the Doctor said.

She released Chakotay and placed a hand to her cheek. "Now?"

"I really must insist."

Janeway swung her legs from beneath her, and slipped her feet into a pair of peep-toe wedges. She reached down to fasten them.

Chakotay leaned forward and stood. He turned back to the Captain, offering his hand. "Up we go."

She waved him off this time. "I can manage, thank you. I don't need an entourage."

She stood shakily and immediately fell back to her seat. Chakotay reached out for her arm and steadied her. "Ok. Maybe a little assistance is in order." She looked down to her feet and pointed. "It's the shoes."

"I'm sure it is," the Commander smiled.

She clung to his arm as he helped her up, guiding her around the fire pit, and through the sheer curtain.

They followed the Doctor out of the holodeck and down the hall to the turbolift.

When they reached the lift and the Doctor pressed the call button, Janeway leaned towards her First Officer, squeezing the forearm she clung to. "Chakotay," she whispered, bringing her free hand to her head, fingertips pushing into her brow. "I don't think that was synthehol."

Chakotay smiled as the doors to the lift opened. "I don't believe it was." They entered together. "No expense spared for Starfleet's finest Captain."

=/\=

They reached her quarters and entered.

Janeway grimaced, shielding her eyes from the light in the room. “Computer,” she instructed. “Lower ambient lighting by twenty percent.” Immediately, the lights dimmed and she shuffled across the room to plop on her couch. Her head slumped back, eyes closed.

The Doctor moved to the replicator. “One water. 16ºC.” The replicator squeaked and a silver steaming mug of coffee appeared within. “What in the --”

“Oh, Doctor,” Janeway called out, eyes still closed, head still back. “That won't work. Ask it for an English Cucumber.”

Chakotay and the Doctor shared a confused look. “All right,” he obliged. “One English Cucumber.” A clear glass appeared with water. A lemon wedge sat on the rim.

“I'm not going to ask how long it took you to figure that one out,” Chakotay said as he approached the couch. He sat down on the small table directly in front of her.

“I drink a lot of coffee.”

The Doctor approached them and presented the glass to the Captain. “Here. Drink up.”

The Captain opened her eyes slightly and peered at it disapprovingly. “If I must.”

“I insist.”

She took it form him and raised one foot toward Chakotay. “Please help,” she asked as she brought the glass to her lips. “They are killing me.”

A tiny buckle was all that was needed to remove the strap on the wedge shoe, and he obliged bringing her shoe into his lap, pulling at the leather. She watched him attentively and brought the remaining shoe to rest on his thigh.

“You never said, Chakotay,” she remarked. “Do you like my dress?”

“It's lovely.” His eyes fell to the plummeting neckline again, but he quickly returned to his work.

“Thank you,” she smirked. “I made it tonight. Turns out that replicator _is_ good for something.” “Yes!” she shouted across the room in its direction. “I'm talking about you!” She brought her glass to her lips and sipped. “You useless piece of technology.”

“Are you two ever going to kiss and make up?”

Her eyes opened wide, she pointed toward the wall. “It started it!”

Chakotay loosened the buckle and removed the second wedge with ease. “I thought it was you that started it.” He wracked his brain, “What was it?” He paused slowly bringing his hands to the bare feet in his lap. “A glorified toaster?”

She smiled, looking down to his hands that rested on her feet. “Case in point, Commander.”

The Doctor began to putter behind them. Chakotay could hear his case open, a PADD spring to life.

But Chakotay's eyes were now set on the feet in his hands and his thumbs which began to simultaneously massage the ball of each foot. He raised his eyes slightly, to see her eyes roll heavily as he worked down her arches.

The Doctor stamped across the floor and Chakotay smiled to himself.

“I'm going to give you a pain reliever, Captain,” he remarked.

“Sure... Fine... Whatever...” Janeway sighed, Chakotay's work now causing her head to roll back, her eyes to close once again.

The Doctor held his hypospray and glared at Chakotay, who returned a smile. He pressed the device to the Captain's neck.

“If that will be all, Captain.”

“Yes,” she said, gasping as Chakotay pressed his knuckle into her arch. “Good night, Doctor.”

Janeway's brow came together. “That feels so good,” she gasped.

The Doctor closed his case noisily, and the beeping of his PADD continued.

“Long day on your feet,” Chakotay remarked.

“Extremely.”

He moved his hands from the soles of her feet to her toes. Warmth was beginning to spread through hm as she sighed heavily again. He moved to the front of her smooth legs, massaging his way to her calves, working with palms and fingertips.

She released a small moan and Chakotay stopped. Her eyes shot open.

“Captain,” the Doctor interrupted, returning to the couch, PADD in hand. “Please finish the water.”

“Right.” Janeway pulled her feet from Chakotay's lap and followed the Doctor's orders.

Chakotay licked his lips and stood, watched as she finished. She handed Chakotay the glass.

“I think it's time I turn in,” she said to them.

“About time,” the Doctor said under his breath.

Chakotay shot a smile in his direction and turned back to the Captain who was beginning to stand. Feet planted, she gingerly lifted herself from the couch. As she stood, a knee buckled and she fell toward Chakotay and reached out to grab both of his forearms.

He leaned forward to steady her. Their faces now close to each other, their heavy breath touched each other's skin, encircling them. She licked her lips.

“Captain.”

“Commander,” she returned. She released his arms and turned, carefully treading across the carpeted floor.

The Doctor stood in the doorway and watched Chakotay, his sights still on the Captain as she disappeared into the darkness of her bedroom. “Well I suppose I should return to Holodeck 2.”

“Uh huh.”

“Just in case there are more displays of disorderly conduct.”

“Very good.”

“Chakotay?”

Chakotay looked to the Doctor. “Yes. Right.” He walked toward him. “Thank you for your assistance tonight, Doctor.”

“My pleasure.”

They motioned to leave and as the Doctor entered the hallway, he turned noticing the Commander was no longer with him. He turned suddenly, “Comman-” he gasped as the door closed to the Captain's quarters, leaving him alone in the hallway.

Chakotay turned from the door, afraid it would open again, and he listened attentively. No sound came from her bedroom. He crept toward the door frame, eyes adjusting to the light.

Her dress lay on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He chanced it, and crept softly to her. His eyes adjusted now, a soft light spread over her peaceful form. Half beneath the sheets, curled on her side, her bare back was visible to him. Her breathing told him she was safe within a deep sleep.

He reached forward and took the edge of her blanket, pulling it over her body, tucking her in. He leaned forward taking another deep inhale.

Softly, he placed a kiss to her brow, regrettably pulling his lips from her.

A smile spread slowly, and he whispered, “Sleep well, Kathryn.”

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 4 - “Say Goodbye” - Dave Matthews Band


	4. Last Night

********

“ _We'll turn this better thing_ _ **  
**__To the best of all we can offer,_

_just a rogue kiss_ _**  
** _ _Tangled tongues and lips_ _**  
** _ _See me this way_ _**  
** _ _I'm turning and turning for you..._

_..._ _All we are is wasting hours until the sun comes up_

_it's all ours_ _  
_ _On our way here_

_Tomorrow go back to being friends_ _.”_

_\- David J. Matthews_

_****_

=/\=

  
  


_"Sleep well, Kathryn." Voice, sweet and sultry._

_Lips leave the gift behind on her skin, warm and loving._

_She turns, hands reaching. "Again," she whispers darkly._

_He lowers himself slowly. Places a kiss to her temple._

_Her eyes close as she commands, "Again"._

_He kisses her cheek this time, lingering. Warm breath on her skin, sweet and enticing._

_"Again."_

_He crosses her face, slowly, taking too long. Lips press carefully against velvet skin._

_"Again."_

_Lips unfold and unite, touching softly as warmth spreads. Her body electric. Wanting. Seduction ravages and grips tightly._

_Body refuses to surrender, bound tightly to passion. It turns with yearning, shaking core._

_"Again."_

_Lips part. Tongues dive searching. Her hands find his face. A light stubble grazing fingertips._

_They part, desire surging, never ceasing. She pulls back sheets, exposing heated skin._

_"Touch me."_

_Aching anticipation as softness overwhelms and palms lie flat discovering unexplored heated flesh, yearning for surrender. Prick, electric, fingertips dipping, flicking. Arched back gravitates toward him as lips and tongue travel new skin, and the floor rises to meet her as the darkness consumes._

  
  


=/\=

  
  


Janeway rolled over, eyes opening as the shadows of her dream started to dissipate. Her head throbbed and she peered through slit eyes into the dim light of the room. Her hand shot out and she felt the space beside her, vacant and cold.

She sighed heavily and curled within the sheets.

Nude, a light sweat covered her body, and as she moved, the images of the dream resonated and gripped her middle.

Her eyes opened with surprise as the consciousness of the dream stirred within her -- Kathryn Janeway was aroused.

_Again._

She ran a hand lightly over her body. Yes, aroused.

She sighed again and closed her eyes, begging the images to leave her.

_Lips leave the gift behind on her skin, warm and loving._

She groaned and turned again. A shower was in order.

She pulled back the sheets and sat, hands immediately gripping her head. Her temple throbbed. Pain shot out from behind her eyes. How many had she had last night?

She stood reluctantly and trudged across the floor to her bathroom.

The soft light glowed behind her mirror. Her hair was a mess, tousled, in complete disarray. She ran her hands through it and leaned forward. Her skin was white with a green hue. The only color graced her cheeks, remnants from her dream. She placed her index finger to her bottom lip and flicked it gently, slowly.

_Lips unfold and unite, touching softly as warmth spreads._

She rolled her eyes and turned. "Computer, commence High-Pitch Sonic Shower."

She stepped within and let the warmth rise as the pulse resonated, touching all parts of her body. A cloud rose to envelope her, and she closed her eyes.

_Touch me._

Her hands followed the narrative in her head. She gasped, breath restrained as the heat rose within her, and the blood rushed to her head. She ran a hand down her body, dipped within her middle, spreading her lips.

_His head lowers and dips between her legs. Fingers and lips and opens for him. Tongue shoots out, licking, expertly flicking._

She gasped for breath. Water flooded her mouth and she swallowed.

“ _You taste so good.”_

“You feel so good.” She quickened her pace. “Please don't stop.”

_Tongue continued. Lips suckled. A hand shot up to her breast._

She gripped her nipple between her fingers and tugged slightly. “I've wanted you for so long.”

“ _I've wanted you for so long.”_

A fresh wave hit her and she pushed toward her hand. Her free hand trailed down her stomach to her side.

“This feels so good.”

“ _You feel good.”_

Knees weakening, she bucked against the shower wall for leverage, allowed her eyes to open slightly and flutter close.

“ _Are you going to cum for me?”_

She moaned. “I am.”

Her breathing was becoming erratic -- her middle gripped.

"Please…"

She arched her back as the burst shot through her, taking her air with it, darkening her eyes, and she shook.

She gasped and turned, placing her head against the wall of the shower. She inhaled deeply as the images left her. Warmth spread to her cheeks and she sighed, and she continued to take in breath until it became easier and her focus returned.

  
  


=/\=

  
  


Her head continued to throb as she entered her Ready Room. She turned to the figure seated on her couch. Chakotay sat up, putting a PADD down, and moved to the edge of the seat. He was freshly pressed, freshly shaven, and he smiled as she entered, big and wide.

Coffee awaited her and she moved across the floor and up to him.

"Good morning," he greeted and he began pouring her a cup.

"Morning.” Her hands grasped at air as she waited for him to finish.

"How's the head?"

She held her mug with two hands, letting the aroma and warmth hit her face. She never took her eyes from the dark liquid as she sat. "I think it has its own heartbeat".

He chuckled. "That bad?"

She brought the cup to her lips and sipped. "That bad."

"I'm sure the doctor can give you something."

"I'll be all right once my head stops trying to detach from my body."

"Stop being so stubborn." Chakotay pressed his combadge. "Chakotay to The Doctor".

_"Go ahead."_

"Can we see you in the Captain's Ready Room?"

Without an answer, the Doctor appeared before them.

"I take it walking would take too long," Chakotay teased.

"It's a busy morning, Commander. Let me guess," he said, quickly turning to the Captain. "Headache, nausea, a general 'Why did I indulge in so many'?"

She nodded, looking up with sad eyes.

"Captain, maybe you could relay a message to Starfleet for me?" He brought out a hypospray and fiddled with its controls.

"What's that?" she asked, turning her neck so he could administer the medicine.

"The next time they want to send any "gifts", suggest they send a medical staff along with it?"

"I'll be sure to-"

He pressed his combadge. "One to beam to sickbay," he interrupted.

"Well, that's that then," Chakotay mused as the Doctor vanished. He poured himself a fresh cup.

The Captain placed her cup in her lap, eyes wide in surprise, and turned her attention to Chakotay finally. "Did I just get lectured?"

"Won't be the last time."

A wide grin spread to her face. They were quiet for a moment and the seconds ticked by in comfort until the images started to flood her brain again.

_He kisses her cheek this time, lingering. Warm breath on her skin, sweet and enticing._

She sighed softly. "Do you have a report?" she finally asked, gesturing toward the PADD in front of him.

He shook his head. "No. I just wanted to see how you are doing this morning."

Her shoulders slumped forward. "Was I that bad?"

He grinned, wide, teeth showing. "No, but the Doctor was worried about you."

Images of the night before returned to her. He had held her hand as they sat cuddled on the couch. Safe and warm, leaned against him. Had it been appropriate, she wondered. And wasn't he looking for Seven? Where had she been? Studying? Yes, she thought. That's what he had said.

And now, here he was, presenting coffee, checking up on her. Her heart suddenly felt heavy, and she looked up at him.

_Her body electric. Wanting. Seduction ravages and grips tightly._

She sighed, heavier this time, unable to hide it from him.

He cocked his head. "Are you okay?"

She waved him off. "My head is out of sorts, but I'll be fine."

"It's been a while."

_Touch me._

She looked up as she choked on her coffee. Her cheeks flushed again, "I'm sorry?"

"Since you have had a drink," he remarked. He searched her inquisitively., his eyes trailed to her lips.

She exhaled long and slow. "Yes, it's been a while."

She was quiet again, sipped her coffee and avoided his eyes. The images continued to creep up into her brain, torturing her – an unrelenting weakness.

“Commander,” she began. “Thank you for the coffee, but I have a very busy day ahead.”

He smiled and placed his cup on the table in front of them. “Yes,” he inhaled. “You're right. I'll leave you to it.”

“I'll be contacting Starfleet Command today,” she said as he stood. “I'll be making final preparations for the remaining Maquis, the Equinox crew, for Icheb,” she paused, “and Seven.”

He straightened the sleeves of his uniform and folded his hands behind his back.

And off his silence, “Do you have any special requests?” She sipped. “For Seven, I mean.”

He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes toward her. “No, Captain,” he confessed. “I'm sure you will do what is best for everyone.”

“Very well,” she smiled slightly. “I'll be sure to keep you informed.”

He returned another awkward smile. Turning toward the door, he stopped short. “There is one thing,” he started.

“Which is?”

“Our last night.” His words echoed in her ready room, a foreboding of the emptiness that was to come. “Have dinner with me? One last time.”

She nodded. “You're on, Commander.” She reached forward to pour another cup. “One week. My quarters. 1900 hours.”

“I'll bring the wine.”

“Oh, and Commander?”

“Yes.”

“Don't be late.”

“Aye, Captain.”

  
  


=/\=

  
  


It was only mid-morning when the doors to her Ready Room opened for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?”

“Yes, Seven.” She motioned to the space beside her on her couch. “Please have a seat.”

Seven stared at her and raised an eyebrow. She remained motionless.

Janeway's brow came together. “For me?”

Seven complied, sat, and clasped her hands together in her lap. She tilted her head toward her Captain.

Janeway took a breath. “I'll be discussing the final release of the remaining crew with Starfleet today. This will include you and Icheb.” She smiled slightly. “I'd like to make a special request to have you leave the ship with Tuvok and the rest of the senior staff. He will be able to look out for your best interests when you take your first steps on Earth.”

“Captain,” Seven said, nodding obediently.

The Captain stood and made her way across the room to her desk. She returned with a small folded bundle in her hands. “And when you leave, I'd like you to wear this.” She placed the bundle in Seven's outstretched hands.

Seven looked upon it, tightly folded, a Starfleet uniform, Sciences Division. “But Captain,” she said, astonished by the gift in her hands. “I am not Starfleet.”

“No, you're not.” She sat back down beside her. “But in my opinion, it is only a matter of time before you wear one. You have done more for this ship than any Starfleet Academy student could even dream. You'll be miles ahead of them in no time, should you pursue it. Starfleet would be lucky to have you,” she paused. “and Icheb.” She reached out and took Seven by the hand. “You would be promoted in a heartbeat.”

“That's surely to upset Ensign Kim.”

The smile spread slowly to Janeway's face. She beamed with pride. “Very funny.”

“I'm honored to wear it, Captain.”

Tears welled in Janeway's eyes. “You have come so far, Seven. I am so proud of you.” She smiled as her tears fell. “I hope you know that.”

“I do, Captain.”

“Good.” She released a held breath. “How are you feeling? About the return.”

“I believe I would be lying if I didn't say I was a little apprehensive.”

“That's fair.” Janeway moved to the end of her seat. “Seven, do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“I ask you to trust me now. I won't let any harm come to you, or Icheb.” She squeezed Seven's hand and was surprised when she returned the sentiment. “I feel we are on the verge of something here, and I want to remind you that your transformation doesn't end with Voyager. I won't abandon you.” She smiled. “I promise.”

“I know.”

“I will truly free you from The Collective, Seven. I will give you back your human form.”

A tear fell from Seven's eye, and Janeway watched it trail her cheek. She cocked her head and reached forward to pull it from her skin.

“I am grateful for you Captain.” Seven confessed. “You have always kept me in your best interests.”

And it was true. The Captain had always kept Seven under her watchful eye, always looking for a new lesson to teach her. But as much as she had hoped Seven would look to her for guidance, it was Janeway who had relied so heavily on the former Borg drone.

Janeway looked out her window at Earth. “Seven, I owe you more than I can ever repay you. Much like the rest of this crew. And giving you back your human life will be my final mission." She looked up at the ceiling of the room. "Even after I leave this ship.”

Seven stood suddenly and looked down at the Captain who slowly rose to her feet. She opened her arms and the Captain stepped into them. They held each other for a moment.

“Your mission has already been a success, Captain. You have already freed me from The Collective, and given me a human life.” Seven squeezed the Captain by the shoulders, perhaps a bit too tightly. “I have been lucky to call you, 'Captain'. I am even luckier to call you, 'friend'.”

  
  


=/\=

  
  


“How are you, Admiral?”Janeway said, looking down at her computer and the image of Admiral Owen Paris on screen.

“Doing well, Captain? And your crew? How are they holding up?”

Janeway leaned back in her Ready Room chair. “Anxious to get home.”

“I can see why.”

“You must be anxious as well.” Janeway smiled wide. “To see Tom, I mean.”

“Yes,” Admiral Paris returned her smile. “And his new family.” He leaned forward. “How is little Mirel?"

"Thriving." Janeway looked down at her hands. “She is the tiniest, most precious little thing.”

The Admiral closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, releasing a heavy sigh. "I can't wait to see her but we are nearly there, Captain. I will be contacting you later this week with the final departures and your final orders.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Janeway offered a fleeting smile. “Have you had time to review my formal request for my remaining senior staff?”

“Yes.” He fiddled with a PADD in his hand. “Is this regarding your former Borg drone? This Seven of Nine, Ter-” He paused looking down at his device, “Tertiary Adjunct...”

“Of Unimatrix Zero-One.” Janeway looked down to her hands as she fidgeted. “I would like to keep her under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Sir.”

“Your write-up on her is commendable, Captain. I must say when word reached Starfleet of your additional crew members, some of them being former Borg drones, many heads turned here at Command.”

“I can imagine, but as you see-”

“We are willing to allow this Seven of Nine to remain under the supervision of the Lieutenant Commander, due to her commendable rapport with you.”

“Thank you, sir. I really must-”

“Kathryn...” he sighed.

“Yes, Sir.” Janeway straightened, suddenly being brought back to her days under his command aboard the _USS Al-Batani_.

“Unfortunately, this Icheb is still listed in today's manifest to embark at 1500 hours.”

“Sir-”

The Admiral held up a hand. “I am sorry, Kathryn. My hands seem to be tied at the moment.”

“I really must insist that Seven and Icheb remain together.” She sighed. “The boy is young and naive to Earth's customs. There's no telling what kind of affliction he will be subjected to from the public.”

“Again, I am sorry,” he continued. “But I promise no harm will befell the lad. And we have ensured that he will be returning to crew quarters at Starfleet like the rest of your crew while final provisions and arrangements can be made. You will all be able to meet with him later this week.”

She nodded obediently. “Yes, Admiral.” She titled her head, straightened her shoulders. “And the Equinox crew?”

“Today as well. With several of the Maquis. Except--” He scrolled on his PADD. “All except B'Elanna and your Commander Chakotay. I do not see them on today's manifest. I'm assuming they will returning later this week with you and the rest of the senior staff.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I must say, Captain. Starfleet Command is anxious to hear your reasoning for making a leader of the Maquis your First Officer.”

“He was the most logical choice given the circumstances, Admiral.” She flushed thinking of him “And continues to be.”

“I expect it to be in your report.”

“It will be.”

“Excellent.” He folded his hands in front of him and narrowed his small eyes at her. “Well, until next time then, Captain.”

“Until then.”

An END TRANSMISSION message flashed across the screen of her computer and Janeway closed the program.

_Lips part. Tongues dive searching. Her hands find his face._

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. This was going to prove to be the longest week in history.

  
  


=/\=

  
  


The days went by just as she expected - dreadfully slow.

Icheb had left the ship with the crew of the Equinox as planned. Like many others from the ship, he leapt at the opportunity to depart, excited for his unknown, ready for the promise of continuing his studies. His exuberance was lost on Seven, who showed little to no emotion as he left.

Dressed in her new sciences' blue, she blended with the crew, her optical Borg implant barely noticeable. She did her best to hold it together, but as Icheb embarked, Janeway had seen out of the corner of her eye, the nervous flick of a finger; the tug at the corner of Seven's mouth.

The former drone's emotions were growing rapidly each day.

It was a solemn week, and she filled her time with more goodbyes and more of her report to Starfleet, Seven ever helpful with organizing the last seven years for her. Her fingers were tired from typing, her eyes tired from crying.

And here they were – the last night on the ship. A night haunted by the unknown that awaited her, which lurked in the shadows of the ship, longing to take her into its clutches with the coming morning hours.

And here they were – the last night dinner that she had planned with Chakotay, whose presence had been scarce once again, locked away meditating somewhere, searching for guidance on Holodeck 1.

When she thought of him, she would ask the Computer to locate him, carefully tracking his every move. Wondering what he was thinking about and if it was of her.

Janeway paced her bathroom and checked her reflection in the mirror for a third time. She straightened her shirt and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

She had dressed in her favorite navy blue blouse, sleeves long and loosely flowing. She loved the way the color darkened her blue eyes, making them hauntingly mesmerizing.

All that was needed was his arrival, for the replicator to finish the meal. She checked the time. Two minutes to seven.

She walked across her floor to the replicator. She had tinkered with it all week uninstalling and installing the program, loading and reloading the recipe. She had turned the machine inside out in an attempt to fix it.

Just one last time, she begged it, one last meal. One perfect evening.

She was hungry for it. Longed for one last night free from mishap – full of celebration, of release.

Her door chimed and she looked up. Her breath was heavy, heartbeat quickening, but she pushed it down.

She took one last sigh and said, “Come in.”

He entered and she could hear her heart resonating in her head. She smiled at him, silently begging her insides to stop from turning. It was just Chakotay. Her Chakotay.

He looked relaxed in an untucked cream colored shirt and navy pant.

“Right on time,” she mused. She pursed her lips as he neared.

“A promise is a promise, Captain.” He held up a wine bottle. “Red. I hope that is okay.”

“Roasted Aubergine and Tomato Curry,” she said to the replicator, and she turned to look up at him. “I hope you're hungry.”

He took a step toward her. Their fingers gently touched as he handed her the bottle. She could smell the cologne he wore. His voice lowered, “I'm famished.”

She looked down at his lips as he licked them. “Well,” she choked. “I better let this breathe then.”

She stepped from him and released a breath, grabbing the decanter and bottle opener from the table, she uncorked the bottle and began to pour the dark, red liquid.

“You've been scarce this week, Chakotay,” she said breaking the tension in the room.

“I've been taking a peaceful retreat,” he began. “I've been searching within for the next path to take. One that would give me joy. And peace.” He paused, “And love.”

“And were you successful?” she questioned hesitantly.

His eyes carefully searched her face. “Time will tell.”

She inhaled quickly and prayed he had not heard the quiver it held. “And do you think this path will give you peace?”

He stepped toward her. “Oh, I believe so.”

“You'll have to tell me how you came to this realization,” she added. “I've been struggling with the path before me.”

“That can be arranged.”

The replicator chimed. Lost in his words, she walked toward it and reached out for the dish, grabbing its handles.

_"Caution, the item may be hot."_

Janeway screamed out in pain. “Every. Damn. Time!” she shrieked.

He quickly bound toward her, reaching out for her hands. “Let me see.” She gave her hands to him and he turned them, examining her fingers and palms.

“That thing has it out for me, you know?”

“Does it hurt?” he questioned. He parted his lips and blew softly over her open palms. He raised his head, averted her gaze. “One small cool compress,” he said turning to the replicator.

She grimaced as he retrieved and placed the compress in her hands. “Thank you.”

“Always,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

He held her eyes as he shifted toward her creating a comfortable warmth between them, and his eyes fell to her lips. He licked his own.

_Body refuses to surrender, bound tightly to passion. It turns with yearning, shaking core._

And as she moved toward him, shortening the gap between them --

“ _Doctor to The Captain.”_

She sighed, pulling back. “Go ahead, Doctor.”

“ _Could I see you on Holodeck 1?"_

Someone was screaming near him. "What's wrong, Doctor?”

_"It's an emergency."_

She shared a confused look with Chakotay, but it faded quickly. Suddenly they recognized whose voice was booming from the Doctor's combadge. -- It was Seven.

“I'm here with the Commander. Should he be accompanying me?” she asked.

_"... "_

"Doctor!"

_"That won't be necessary, Captain."_ The Doctor grunted. _"Please. Hurry,"_ he pleaded.

“I'll be right there.”

Janeway remained motionless. She had been unaware he was still cradling her hands.

His hands finally fell from her. "You had better hurry." He took a step back, watched as she searched the room, then added, "I've got this."

  
  


=/\=

  
  


She could still feel his fingertips on her hands, a phantom touch emanating as she waited impatiently for the lift doors to open.

The Captain ran off the lift and down to Holodeck 1. The Doctor had seemed frantic, and she hurriedly entered a code on the pad on the door panel and the door opened to simulated crew living quarters.

The room was warm and inviting, and very spacious. Soft blue light glowed from the sconces on the wall. A small kitchenette was to her right, a dinner partly prepared sat on an island.

A roar greeted her ears, breaking her examination of the room and she looked up to see the Doctor hiding behind a turned-over couch, clutching his medical case. A book hurdled through the air towards the Doctor and he deflected it with his medical case.

“Your assistance, please,” the Doctor requested nearly breathless.

“Seven?” she started. “It's the Captain.”

She peered around the corner as a flower vase flew through the air toward her. She dodged it just before it made contact, hitting the wall behind her and shattering. She bent low and moved to meet the doctor behind the couch.

“Seven?” Janeway continued. “Can we talk about this?”

A chair now flew through the air hitting a nearby wall, damaging it.

“What is going on, Doctor?” she whispered. “What brought this on?”

“I have no clue, Captain. She summoned me here from sick bay. I walked into this barrage. She refuses to talk to me.”

“Computer, End Simulation,” Janeway commanded. An error message beeped.

_"Authorization Code required."_

“She has turned off the safety controls,” the Doctor confessed. “I've already attempted to.”

Janeway moved around the couch and crouched by a chair. She gave a motion for the Doctor to stay where he was. She could get a glimpse of Seven in the darkness -- pacing, hands pulling at her hair. She was clearly distraught.

“Seven?” she said carefully. Another book hurled toward her, this one grazing her leg. “Seven! Talk to me!”

“Go away, Captain.”

Janeway turned to the Doctor and he shrugged.

She bent low through the doorway of the dark room, hiding as best she could in the shadows. She could see Seven in the light from the window of the bedroom. The glow from Earth reflecting against the walls.

Her hair had fallen from the tightly wound up-do she adorned daily. Her skin tight suit had melted away into a bright red dress which fell just above her knee. Bright red pumps graced her feet to match.

She slowly turned to face the Captain. A plunging neckline, her skin was like porcelain.

The Captain took this opportunity to reach out and take Seven by the shoulders, pulling her against her body. Seething rage greeted her, as Seven struggled in her arms.

“Let me go!”

“I won't. Not until you calm down.”

“I can't. I'm malfunctioning.”

“Doctor?!” Janeway bellowed.

The Doctor hurdled across the room, over upturned couches and chairs, medical tricorder in hand, open and ready.

He took a quick read while Seven twisted in Janeway's arms.

Janeway held on tightly until she began to relax.

“Seven, I can see no imbalance.” He smiled warmly as she took several deep breaths. “Except for elevated heart rate, you are working on normal parameters.”

“That's impossible.”

“Please talk to me. What is going on?” Janeway inquired, releasing Seven from her hug, gripping her shoulders. She fought to draw Seven's eyes to her own.

“Icheb.” Her voice echoed with spite. “That is what. You sent him away.”

“I didn't send him away.” She drew in a sharp breath. “He is waiting for us on Earth. He is beginning his studies. We will meet with him tomorrow. We discussed this.”

“You discussed this. No one asked me how I would feel? Perhaps no one has cared to in the past. Soulless, emotionless, Borg.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at her feet.

“Seven,” Janeway began. She looked up to see the Doctor, concern spreading across his face. “You know that's not true. It was merely his time to head to Earth.”

“Dissection.” She looked up at the Captain, spite gripping her features. “They will tear him apart and who will be there to protect him?” Her words were daggers. “Not you, Captain. You abandoned him.”

“Seven... please..”.

“What if he is scared?” she continued. Pain gripped her as the tears flowed down her cheeks. “Who will look after him? How can I go to him if he needs me?” Seven's shoulders slumped in defeat.

Janeway pulled Seven into her arms again. “Soon, Seven. You will be with him again. Very soon.”

Rage had turned to sobbing, and she fell to the floor, limp in the Captain's arms. Janeway reached the floor with her and continued to cradle her. The Doctor took his cue to back out of the room.

Eventually Janeway's voice cut through Seven's sobs.”What is all of this?” she motioned to Seven's attire.

“Research.”

Janeway brushed the tears from Seven's face. She was soft and warm, eyes bloodshot and irritated, but the redness was falling from her cheeks with each breath.

“Computer,” Seven ordered. “Reset the parameters of the program.”

They stood as there was a blip and chairs returned their original placement, walls turned solid free from blemish.

Janeway smiled admiringly. The former Borg's fit frame was perfectly accentuated by the dress. Janeway's eyes trailed her arms, her hands, her face, her legs. There was no trace of Borg technology.

“May I?” she asked, reaching out for her hand.

Seven nodded and Janeway reached out for Seven's shoulder and let her hand run gently down her arm. No imperfections. No Borg implants. Just perfectly smooth skin.

Janeway watched as goosebumps appeared on her skin, and looked up suddenly out of the corner of her eye.

A curious smile spread to her lips. “Part of the program, Captain. Do you like my appearance?”

“It's perfect, Seven,” she confessed, and Seven seemed pleased. Janeway's eyes danced across Seven's face, searching.

“What is it?” Seven asked, reading her face.

“Your implants...”

“Do you like it?”

“You have made a lovely simulation.” Janeway placed fingertips above Seven's eye and traced her brow. “But I prefer my Seven.” She pushed her hair from her face. “Implants and all.”

There was a gentle chime and Seven's eyes opened wide.

“There you are,” he said low.

They turned to see Chakotay enter the room. He was now dressed in a brown coat and shirt.He carried a towel in his hands, fresh from doing dishes.

“Chakotay, I--” Janeway began.

He crossed the room with conviction and lifted both hands to Seven's face, cradling her in his palms. “I was beginning to worry,” he said and kissed her swiftly, heatedly, his tongue dancing against her own. She returned his kiss, raising her arms around his neck.

Janeway took a step back and lowered her head, ashamed to be a witness to this tender moment.

They broke and Janeway stole a glance, looking up at the lovers, their eyes locked together. Seven raised a hand to his face and traced the tattoo over his eye. He smiled at her adoringly, completely in awe.

“Computer,” she commanded. “Delete Chakotay character.”

The computer beeped, and the hologram's eyes widened for a fleeting moment just as he disappeared from sight.

“Computer,” she began again. “End program. Authorization Code Seven-Beta-Two.” The walls of the holodeck emerged as Seven's simulated quarters faded. Seven now stood, her back to the Captain, dressed in Starfleet uniform.

“Seven...” She reached out for Seven's shoulders which had slumped.

“It's all right, Captain.” She turned, optical implant materialized above her eye.

She straightened her shoulders and looked to her Captain, clasping her hands together behind her back.

“It was merely an experiment.” Her sharp blue eyes straightened, stared directly into Janeway's. “One, it appears, I failed.”

  
  


=/\=

  
  


The hallway to Deck 8 was silent as she turned toward the turbolift. She pressed the call button and crossed her arms. The lift arrived instantly and she entered.

“Deck 3,” she commanded.

Her final night had proved to be more adventurous than she initially intended. She tried to wrap her thoughts around what she had witnessed. A near confession by her First Officer. Seven's holographic Chakotay. Their heated kiss. There was a sadness to it as it lingered. Something in it seemed so final. Then Seven deleted his hologram.

She stopped outside Chakotay's quarters. She could reach up and press his call button, invite him back to her quarters to continue their evening. Their final meal together, with one or two drinks. The night didn't need to be a total loss. One last memory could be made.

It would be so easy. And she longed to be able to take the leap. Could she risk him turning her away?

_They part, desire surging, never ceasing. She pulls back sheets, exposing heated skin._

And when the morning came, and the lights on the ship brightened, could they leave each other's arms and return to their responsibilities that gripped them so tightly. Chakotay to Seven's waiting arms. Janeway to her Starfleet Captain's chair, or still, an Admiral's desk.

And what, she thought. Go back to being friends? Say goodbye?

She looked down at her uniform and cursed it silently. What if she was reading this all wrong? The ever charming Chakotay. She longed for his arms, craved his lips.

All she had to do was press the button. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. What if?

But her hands remained down by her side and her feet carried her to her door and into her quarters.

The room was tidy. A single plate with cover sat on the table, a glass of red to accompany it. She pressed her hand to the lid carefully. It was still warm.

She closed her eyes and inhaled. All that lingered was his scent which hung in the air.

She made her way to her bedroom, longed to be out of her clothes, but a light from her bathroom drew her attention and she gingerly made her way to the door and looked inside.

_Aching anticipation as softness overwhelms and palms lie flat discovering unexplored heated flesh, yearning for surrender._

Candles lit the entryway and enveloped her bathtub in soft light. She looked around the room then headed to sit on the side of the tub. Bubbles filled the receptacle and she dipped a hand into the water. It was still hot.

Her mind traveled back to their nights on New Earth. To the quiet, shared moments with no one else around them. Trapped within a dream of living out their final days together, he had created a home for them.

The headboards he made so she could lean against it late at night, staying up reading, listening to him sleep softly on the other side of the room.

The bathtub he had hewn with his own hands; a place she could unwind, and regain her human form after long days spent working. She remembered the way his eyes trailed her body in the darkness of that starlit night.

He had taken his time to create the little comforts, begging her to see a future with him.

And she had. For a moment, she allowed herself to see their future together; a life on a new planet, exploring the woods, and rivers, and hills happily with him.

And in one transmission, the dream had died. And they returned to Voyager, returned to their life as Captain and Commander, returned to duty and protocol.

She had forgotten, but had he?

_"Again," she whispers darkly._

She looked down – a gift awaited her. The answer she had been looking for.

A single pink water-colored rose sat on the edge of the tub.

_Voice, sweet and sultry. "Sleep well, Kathryn.”_

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 5 - "Is There Somewhere" - Ashley Frangipane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone could tell me by sending me a personal message, if this falls more into Explicit than Mature, that would be greatly appreciated, as I am somewhat confused between the two. Thanks. :)


	5. The Gift

****

“ _I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go  
Is there somewhere you can meet me?  
'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings  
And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing._

_I'm sorry that I fell in love tonight._

_"Could we pretend that we're in love?”_

_\- Ashley Frangipane_

_****_

=/\=

Safe within her dock, Voyager sighs. She pauses and takes in a sharp inhale as fans engage and her Jefferies tubes fill with refreshed oxygen.

Her warp coil quiets, energy reduced, lighting subdued. Her consoles lie motionless for the first time in seven years, as their lights dim beginning to slumber, and programs dream. Gone is the hustle and commotion and steady stream of directive from her crew. Gone is the warmth that filled her.

An echo of a shudder moves throughout her.

Chairs in her Mess Hall sit at attention, awaiting a new heated debate, a new gathering filled with excitement. But no new celebration is promised. No new delicacies with fragrant spices will grace this room. No celebration is to come. No joy is left to share.

Her holodecks are turned off. No more adventure left to recount. No life to bounce from her walls.

Her hallways remain barren.

She is vacant; her family now departed.

Grief clings to the emptiness, and Voyager creaks lonely in suspension.

From a crew of 146, only two remain.

=/\=

He took a deep breath and entered through the doors.

He found her sitting on the couch in her Ready Room, cup in one hand, head resting in her other palm. She sat staring out the window at the Earth spinning slowly.

She seemed lost in a daydream, her features stressed and tired. Heavy breaths escaped her.

She looked up hearing the doors close behind him. A hand moved to her hair, fingers running through the back of it, and her eyes fell to his feet. “Is it that time already?” she asked with sadness.

“It is, Captain.” His hands were behind his back. He straightened, raising his head, his posture straining with formality.

She looked up and raised an eyebrow, and pulled the side of her mouth into a smirk. She turned toward him. “At ease, Chakotay. Before you hurt something.” She motioned for him to sit with her. “Coffee?”

“We could.” He pulled his hands from behind his back, presenting a glass bottle, tall with fine edges. It held a golden liquid.

Her eyes widened. “Is that--?” she started.

“Antarian cider. The last bottle.”

Janeway's face fell back to sadness at his remarks, but she stood and walked to hover by the replicator, requesting two chilled glasses. “So Neelix never did find your stash, did he?”

He gasped playfully. "Wait. Don't you recall the Temporal Prime Directive, Captain?" he questioned lightly.

She turned, two chilled glasses in hand, and looked over to him as he ascended the short stair. She met him at the couch. "Right. What did I say?" She smiled, playing along with his game.

“Temporal Prime Directive or not, the answer is, no, he never did. Lucky for us.”

He uncorked the bottle and poured them equal shares.

“When was your shuttle docking, again?” she questioned.

He handed her a glass. “1300 hours.”

She took a sharp inhale and raised her glass to him, searching within for words to commemorate the past seven years. She smiled. "To the journey."

"To the experience," he replied.

"To this ship."

"To her crew."

She paused and a wide smile spread slowly. "To the Commander," she said softly.

He tilted his head and returned her soft smile. "To our Captain." He sipped. "And to the future."

She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and he watched as she played with the rim of the glass. It was a moment before she brought it to her lips and sipped again.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice lowered, and he reached forward to place a hand to her elbow inviting her to sit with him. “Tell me.”

She shook her head slightly, looking down at the glass in her hands. "I don't know what my future holds, Chakotay," she said honestly. "And it scares me."

"You have your promotion," he added with fervor. "That's something to hold onto."

She laughed slightly. "I'm envious of you," she confessed. "You talk so easily about your path, Chakotay. But I don't know where I'm headed." Her voice lowered, escaped as a whisper. "I don't want this to end."

A rumble resonated gently through the bulkheads above them. A familiar sound they had grown accustomed to. Voyager was settling.

He lowered his head. "You don't have to. Deny the promotion."

"They are calling me in about an hour. I don't know what to tell them."

"Speak from your heart." He smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to accept it today."

"I've already given it a month." She sighed. “That's long enough.”

He reached forward to take her hand. It was cold from the glass and he moved his fingers over hers, caressed a digit with his thumb. He shrugged his shoulders. "Let them wait," he said softly.

She looked up at him and he could see the strain on her face; desperation spread across it. Her eyes danced, begging him for assistance.

And he wished he could.

He would fall to her feet and beg her to leave the ship. Stay by his side. Make a home with him. Devoid of her desire for the stars and for a new journey. Strip from her uniform and abandon Starfleet and regulations and protocol and duty.

Climb into his arms and never look back.

But he knew she would have to abandon every aching desire within her. All that made her who she was. He closed his eyes. Surely, he could not be worthy of that.

She squeezed his hand lightly. "But enough about me. I didn't ask you here to hear me go on. This is about you."

"About me? I'm shaking with suspense."

She lifted from the couch, excitedly bounding across the floor. "I was going to save this for a celebration on Earth, but I can't wait any longer." She moved to the desk and pulled back a drawer, pulling two boxes; one medium in blue, one small in silver. She handed the medium-sized box to him and placed a hand to her hip.

"Open it," she commanded.

He looked up and smiled, then turned his attention to the blue box in his hands. He lifted the cover. Inside, pressed into molded soft velvet sat a round ancient instrument, marked with the directions North, South, East and West.

“It's a magnetized pointer,” she began. “A replica of the compass carried by Robert McCarthy aboard the HMS Pearson where he served as Navigation Officer and later, Executive Officer to Captain Cray.” Chakotay raised his eyes up from the compass. She spoke slowly. “Captain Cray's ship never would have made it safely to London Harbour with his entire crew, if it hadn't been for McCarthy.”

He smiled. “You did your research.”

She lifted her hands and unzipped her jacket, turning one side open to face him. Inside was a small pocket, sewed into the lining of the coat. She reached inside and pulled a silver pocket watch out by its chain. A replica of the very chronometer worn by Captain Cray of the British Navy, and the birthday gift Chakotay had given her some three years prior.

“I've carried it with me daily since you gave it to me,” she confessed. “It was my personal lucky charm.”

Touched by her words, the lump formed in his throat, and he gingerly reached towards the compass, carefully pulling it from its velvet resting place. "I had no idea."

Janeway turned the time piece in her hand, and ran a thumb lightly over the watchface. "That was a good year."

His brow came together in confusion. "Wasn't that the year the Hirogens took the ship?"

"It was." She tilted her head. "Also the year we took it back."

"And we almost lost B'Elanna to the Mari."

She raised her index finger. "Almost."

"And the Aliens who invaded our dreams?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Your point?"

He smiled wide, teeth showing. "It _was_ a good year."

She motioned toward the compass in his hands. “I've engraved it.”

The compass was silver, its outer rim made of gold, and it was light in his hand as he turned it over to see the inscription on the back.

“Not a day without you,” he read softly aloud.

He turned the instrument in his hands again. Even with the interference of the ship's systems, the compass needle moved slightly, aligning itself perfectly, and he looked up from the instrument's reading – the arrow pointing directly at her, and he smiled.

The truth was, he didn't need a compass to guide him -- not any longer.

“Here,” she commanded, pushing the smaller silver box into his hands. “Now open this.”

He obliged, reading her excitement, and pulled off the lid. Within it, the official pips for a First Officer; his official rank as a Starfleet Commander.

"Chakotay,” she started, “I am proud to be the one to deliver the news. Your official pardon, and full reinstatement into Starfleet."

He held the box gingerly in his hands. Then slowly, he closed it, looking up to her, seeing the confusion spread across her face.

"Wait," she declared, reaching forward. "You have to let me do the honors. I want to see how they look."

He shrugged. "I can't accept this."

"I'm sorry?"

"It wouldn't be right".

"Why?” she scoffed. “Chakotay, you have earned this. They acted off my recommendation."

She was hurt; it was true, and she slumped beside him to take the box from his hand as he offered it back to her.

He reached down and held tightly to the compass. "Because this is it for me. It started and ends with you."

Her composure began to lift from her face, and she looked up at him, and her mouth closed, awaiting his next remarks.

“When I vowed to join the Maquis, I took this uniform off. I swore to myself that I would never wear it again. And then seven years ago, you asked me to wear it, so I did. For you. And I swore I would stand by your side."

"And you did it admirably." She cut herself short. "If this is about Seven, I'm sure we can--"

"No," he interjected, raising a hand. "It isn't Seven. There is nothing with Seven. It was only a distraction." He looked up at her.

"Chakotay…" she started, but stopped herself again with a slight shake to her head.

"I can't do this anymore." He gripped the compass tighter.

"But Starfleet needs you, Chakotay. Regardless of what happens to me."

He shook his head, closing his eyes.

“And what if I deny the promotion?” Panic was beginning to sneak up on her, shaking her voice. “We could request Voyager. You could come with me. We could continue the journey.”

He sighed softly. "New Earth? Do you remember it?"

He looked into her eyes, a deepening blue, and her face suddenly changed. The heaviness of his words beginning to grip her.

He remembered back to their time together. To nights on the M-Class planet they called New Earth. There were talks of living the rest of their lives together.

She inhaled. "I do."

"And you remember what I told you?"

She looked to her hands and fidgeted. “Fondly".

"I meant what I said.” He reached forward and with a single finger to her chin, lifted her gaze toward him. “You are the woman warrior, Kathryn. I promised to devote the rest of my life to you and this ship. I'd go anywhere with you. Do anything you told me to. But now, if there is no you, there is no me. I can't go on like this. I can't do this anymore." He gestured between them. “It wouldn't be fair.”

"And what is this?" Her eyes were dancing now.

"We are home now. I can't keep pretending that we are merely friends. I feel like that would be a violation of how I feel for you. Because I can't rid you from thoughts." He stopped. "I have tried so damn hard."

"Chakotay…"

He put a hand up to stop her. "Seven years ago, you saved me. Gave me back my honor and virtue when I was lost, and you made me look deep within, so I could find myself again. You challenged me. Kept me honest with myself. You gave me purpose." He paused. "I owe you everything."

Her face softened by his words.

"I didn't do this for Starfleet. I did it for you." He removed his badge and his Provisional Commander pip, placing them in her palm and closed her hand around them. "You give me peace within myself, Kathryn. Since the moment I first saw you, it's only ever been you. You have put me back together, and gave me home.

"When faced with the possibility of waiting 75 years on board, my thoughts would go to you. When I would think of the possibility that I would die on this ship, it was you I wanted to go to. But there was always a blockade of your captaincy, or regulations, or Mark, or your duty to Starfleet, a line I couldn't cross. And I would never want to get in the way of those. I knew your respect for this uniform was beyond what I could offer you. And I have too much respect for you to give you some ultimatum, so words were left unsaid." He lowered his eyes. Held her hand tighter. "I tried to clear you from my thoughts. I tried filling the space with others."

"Seven--" she choked

"Yes, Seven. I have apologized, for what it's worth. I'm truly sorry. It was a senseless attempt to kid myself that I wasn't in love with you. That wasn't fair to her." He pulled the box from her palm to hold her hands with his.

"And that's what this is?" she asked. Her brow raised.

"Yes," he took a long, deep breath. "But it never worked. How could it? I would think I was okay, that I was managing. And then you would pull me back with a smile, or a slight touch to my shoulder, or lean against me while reading over some diagnostic on the Bridge."

"Our dinners made it worse, then," she remarked sadly.

"No, they helped. I could escape for an evening while we laughed over the day's mission, or the crew, or that damn replicator." They shared a smile. Tears formed in her eyes, threatened for release. The memories were painted so clearly. Those days now gone.

"If I accept this from Starfleet," he continued. "I could make Captain."

"You would."

"Then what? Get my orders from some _Admiral Janeway_? Off to explore a distant planet? Some miraculous adventure?"

"It sounds wonderful," she interjected. She let a single tear escape, and he followed it down her cheek.

"Without you, it would be torment." He moved to wipe the tear with his finger tip. "I wouldn't make it very far out there without you. I don't want to try." He moved from her face as more tears began to fall. “I've only ever wanted to be worthy enough for you. And until then, I'll continue to wait.”

Her head tilted in sorrow, gripped by his words. He watched her swallow, pushing the lump down her throat.

"I'm so sorry, Chakotay,” she choked. "For your pain."

"I'm not." He leaned forward to be near to her and left her hands after one final squeeze. "You are worth the wait."

=/\=

Her Captain closes her computer, her transmission now complete.

Voyager releases a long sigh which rumbles through her belly, settling bulkheads, rivets, and her Captain raises her eyes to the ceiling.

She leans back in her chair, and anguish grips her. Her hands find her face, covering her eyes, as her lips pull tightly together, trembling, and she sobs.

Voyager pushes another low rumble through her belly, shaking her decks and the floor at her Captain's feet. But her attempt is feeble, the Captain continues, sobs quietly safe within the empty confines of her room.

A chirp sounds from the closed computer, and her Captain holds her breath, listens as it beeps again pulling her from her sadness. She pulls a small standing mirror from her desk drawer and checks her face. She runs fingers under her eyes.

She reaches forward to open the monitor and they watch together as the monitor blips, as windows open and close. The Captain's face tightens with confusion. Finally, systems reset and one window remains: the personnel file of the First Officer.

The Captain leans back in her chair. She reaches up for her badge and removes it, turning it in her hands to look down at the symbol. She places it on her desk and stands. Her head bows low.

Voyager rumbles, softer this time, and her Captain watches as the monitor blips again, displaying a previous END TRANSMISSION message.

She looks up from the computer, eyes teary, her lips tight. “All right,” the Captain says as she crosses the floor to the door. She stops and looks over her shoulder, allows the frustration to drain from her face. “You made your point.”

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 6 - “Shameless” - Camila Cabello, _et al_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simply an FYI... Will be changing the rating to "E" for the next chapter. For safety. ;)


	6. Shameless

****

“ _So many mornings, I woke up confused.  
In my dreams, I do anything I want to you.  
My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind._

 _Distance, inches in between us_ _  
__I want you to give in,_ _  
__Weakness, tension in between us_ _  
__I just wanna give in_ _  
__And I don't care if I'm forgiven..._

_... I need you more than I want to.”_

_\- Camila Cabello, et al._

****

=/\=  
  


"Computer, raise the temperature by 5 degrees," he commanded.

No matter how many times he adjusted the shower's temperature, Chakotay failed to reach the desired result. After the morning he had, he wanted to melt within its confines, diving deep, plunging into a lightheaded dream. Forget he had poured his soul out to the woman who held his heart.

He had presented it, giving it to her freely, delving within the far reaches of his feelings, something he thought he would never get the chance to do.

And now he was faced with the probability of its fallout. Seven years of craving every inch of her skin, came down to a few moments; a disorderly affirmation of his love, laid before her, exposed, stripped of its mask.

_I've only ever wanted to be worthy enough for you. And until then, I'll continue to wait._

He groaned and hit the shower wall with his fist.

She had suggested leaving together, and making a special request for Voyager; continuing to search the stars, side by side. And maybe he could have concealed his true desires for a little longer. Keep burying the yearning to touch her, to feel her hand wrapped in his. Resist his craving for her sleeping form beside him, safely sheltered in his arms.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. No, he couldn't do that. Not anymore. He had cheated himself of his feelings for too long.

He had spent many days in careful reflection. He had asked for direction so openly, and freed himself of all fear, and his visions had clearly shown him his path. Kathryn Janeway was his absolute.

He hit his head against the shower wall. What was he thinking? Take it slow, he had told himself. Work into it.

But he was leaving. It had been his chance.

He was certain she would never return those feelings. After such a confession, could he even expect her to meet him as he disembarked?

_Not a day without you._

And yet...

The timer to his shower ended and Chakotay shook his head. This was it.

He ran a towel carefully over his body and reached to pull on a loose pair of boxer shorts. He brought his towel to his head and quickly ran it over his hair, finally wrapping it around his shoulders. He entered his bedroom and looked down at his bed.

Side by side, lay two uniforms: one Starfleet, one Maquis. He smiled; neither seemed to fit anymore.

He wiped one edge of the towel across his face and moved to his table. He was searching for a plain t-shirt and pants when the door to his room suddenly chimed.

"Come in," he said.

But there was no answer, so he listened carefully, and it chimed again.

Chakotay walked towards the door and opened it, and found Janeway with her head bowed, shoulders slumped, working her hands together.

He could read her agitation and sadness immediately. "What is it?"

She looked up at him. Large tears cascaded down her cheeks. She was completely devoid of refrain. "My final order has come through,” she choked. Her lips pursed and her chin wrinkled. “A team will be on board Voyager at 1700 hours to relieve me of my command. And then I'm to be off the ship." She shrugged helplessly, and her hands fell to her side.

He placed a palm to her shoulder. “Come in,” he soothed, and he directed her in from the hallway.

Her eyes flickered in the dim light of the room, danced quickly across his chest. She turned to see his small bag being packed on the table.

He caressed her shoulder; a feeble attempt to calm her. He looked down, noticing her combadge was missing. He waited until her breathing eased and she regained some composure.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn,” he said, drawing her eyes to him again. “I know how much you wanted to be with Voyager on her descent."

She nodded, and more tears fell, gracing her opened jacket, falling to her t-shirt. She continued looking at her hands. She sucked in air and wiped a hand across both cheeks. Instantly, more tears replaced them.

She glanced to the side again, to a neat pile of clothes, a few stacked books, a small trinket. "You almost packed?" she asked.

"I am,” he divulged, following her line of sight. “My shuttle should be coming soon."

She played with a finger, and turned her hands over. "It's not."

"No?"

"I had to belay that order." She met his eyes finally, struggling to regain her composure.

"You did?" His brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Why?"

"I have to return the gesture you gave me earlier."

"Ah, about that…"

She reached up and, one by one, removed her pips, pulling them from her collared shirt. She held them in her hand for a moment. He dropped his towel to the table as she opened his hand, and placed her pips in his palm. She took a deep breath.

"You told me you accepted the position for me and not Starfleet, and I want to say that you have made the burden of wearing these easier on me. At times, these seven years were the happiest of my life, and I realize that is because I had you by my side."

"The happiest?" He offered a small smirk.

"While I admit I could do without the Kazon, and the macroviruses, and the enormous space dwelling pitcher plants..." She smiled sadly. "That being said… I'd do it all again in a heartbeat--" She closed his hand over them. "--If it meant doing it all again with you." Their eyes met. "You also kept me grounded. You challenged me when I needed it the most and for that, I am eternally grateful."

Tears were beginning to stream down her face again. He stepped forward and reached up to cup her cheek with his free hand. He wiped away the tears as they fell.

“And I realized something,” she confessed.

“What's that?” he asked warmly.

“I've never relied on anyone as much as I rely on you. Never trusted anyone as much as I trust you,” and off his look, “Yes, even Mark.” She looked down at their hands folded together. “I want to find out how far that goes.” She took another shaky breath. “Someone once told me, 'Maybe it's simply accepting what life has dealt us, finding the good in it'.”

He smiled hearing his words repeated back to him. “And do you think you have done that now? Found the good in it?”

“I know I have.” She touched her palm to his cheek. “I've always had it, so it seems.” Her eyes lowered to his lips again.

He placed a finger to her chin, and lifted it until her eyes reached his. “Permission to kiss you now?”

She smiled, thin lipped, teeth beginning to show. “Granted.”

Slowly, he lowered his head to meet her lips. She was hot, and salty, and he pressed his lips against hers tenderly, and held it, until she relaxed, and her hand reached out to take his elbow for support. He pulled away and smiled at her. Her eyes were still closed.

She licked her lips. Slowly, her blue eyes opened. “I'm ready to accept the promotion.”

His brow furrowed, concern painting his features. “But you would be giving up so much.”

“I've travelled to the far reaches of the Galaxy. I've lived a thousand voyages with the best crew I could ask for.” She moved her hands to reach up and cup his face. “But I'm ready to start a new one with you.”

He smiled, his hand moved to reach the small of her back, and he pulled her closer to him.

“So would you?” she asked.

“Would I what?” he toyed.

“Would you stand by my side?”

He lowered his face to hers, breath warm on her already hot cheeks, and whispered, “Always.”

His nose brushed against hers. Her raspy breath clung to his lips, drawing him nearer. He grasped her sacrifice, completely turned on by her confession, and there was no way he was letting her go.

“I just hope I'm worthy enough,” she mused.

“Trust me. You are.”

Their lips met with sensualness as four pips fell to the floor and dispersed in several directions. It was a kiss he had waited for for seven years, and the more their lips moved in unison, the more his body was drawing toward her, gravitating to her warmth, and scent, and the saltiness of her skin.

He pulled from the heated kiss. “You have no idea how long I've wanted this,” he divulged. “How long I've wanted to kiss you.” He licked his lips. “Taste you.”

"And I've wanted you also,” she breathed. “As much as I tried to deny myself a sense of desire, you were always there, picking away at my stubbornness.” She smiled and he reached forward with his lips, kissed her behind her ear, causing her eyes to flutter closed. A slow breath escaped her. “I tried to marry myself to this ship, keep steadfast. But thoughts of you would creep up inside my head. How could they not? You were always there.”

Her breathing quickened as his lips moved down her neck, words unending were tumbling from her. She smiled and reached to pull his face away from her neck. She stared into his eyes.

“So I clung to our friendship. I tried to write-off my feelings. I had to hold onto those protocols and regulations just so I could make sense of it all. And I couldn't deny you your happiness over a strength in my ideals.” She kissed him, warm and gentle, and he relished in the softness of her lips. “We once told ourselves, back in our early years, that we couldn't possibly deny the crew the process of falling in love with each other, even if it went against Starfleet regulations." She paused cursing it's words. "But I couldn't. I was the Captain. I had to set the example. How could I allow myself to fall in love with you?"

"But here you are."

"Yes, here I am." She raised an eyebrow. "Completely overdressed, it seems."

Her hands moved from his face to his chest, and she trailed her hands across his skin. He took a step back so he could watch her, keeping his eyes locked with hers. Slowly, she removed her jacket and dropped it to the floor. She reached up again and pulled her collared shirt from her body. She stood before him in a Starfleet issued grey tank top.

Her captaincy was beginning to fall from her, joining the pips that lay scattered on the floor. His Kathryn was emerging. A woman in need of his touch, desperate for a love she had deprived herself of for too long.

"I couldn't say it before, but I will now." She placed her hands to his chest again. "I need you with me, Chakotay."

Her skin was flushed from confessing all the words that had been building up over the last seven years. He rocked toward her, pressing his body against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath on his face as he moved in. His fingertips lightly grazed her shoulder, played with her skin, and he watched it rise beneath his touch.

“I want all of you,” he said in a whisper and leaned in, lightly touching her lips with his, toying carefully, waiting until she returned his invitation.

When their lips parted, he cupped a hand to her face. His lips were inches from hers, noses gently touching. "How much time do we have?" he asked. He placed a hand to her back, pulling her even closer.

She licked her lips. "Hours."

He leaned in to kiss her again, heavy breath starting on new undiscovered flesh. Sensual had turned to seduction as he moved down her neck. She was soft and sweet, and was reaching out for him, her hands on his skin.

Tongues moved now, warm and wet, brushing against one another as they searched for control. She pulled back suddenly, pushing him from her skin, and fear instantly struck him.

“Chakotay?”

He leaned in again but she held a finger against his lips. He continued kissing her hand, breathed against her skin.

“May I be honest?”

He pulled back. “What is it?”

“It's been awhile...and...”

He grabbed the hand at his lips, kissed her wrist. “It's okay.” He smiled down at her. “I'm good at following your orders.” He held her palm against his chest and leaned in to kiss her lips lightly again.

Her chest heaved against him with each nervous breath. He trailed a hand down her collar bone to her chest, and with the back of a finger, toyed across the top of her breast. She looked down as his hands cupped her body, moved down her sides to rest at her hips. He toyed with the edge of her tank top, fingertips finding new soft skin which hadn't been touched by anyone else in years.

She moved her hands to his back, nails gently playing across his skin. Her touch was intoxicating, exhilarating, blissful.

His hands mimicked her own, and he reached under her top, palms flat across her back, inching the shirt up. He watched the side of her mouth turn upward seductively, and he lifted the garment from her torso, revealing her black bra. He paused, leaned back to watch her chest rise and fall.

For the first time, she was wavering in front of him, hesitant to reach out to him. Free from her command and uniform, creamy skin revealed, she was modest and gentle, much unlike the stiff exterior he was used to seeing.

“What?” she questioned.

He smiled running a hand down her back, supporting her against him. “I'm just taking you in.” He ran a hand over her cheek. “You are so damn beautiful.”

He kissed her again, tongue lashing, hands beginning to pull and tug, grip and grasp, exploring new flesh, as new and old sensations began to return to him. She swayed, hips rocking into him with the motion of their kiss.

Passion shook her and she lifted herself into obliging hands that gripped her ass, pulling her up into his arms, legs wrapping around him.

He carried her across the carpeted floor to his bed room, lips trailing the skin of her neck. He lay her down, lips never leaving her body.

He reached from her to push his uniforms to the floor, and they landed with a soft _thud_.

She clawed at his back, pulling him down onto her as her hips began to move against him. She writhed under him, and he said a silent prayer, thankful his body remembered what to do. A quiet moan escaped her lips.

"I want you," she whispered.

"The feeling is mutual."

Her hands reached down to pull at his shorts, taking him firm in her hand. He moaned with her movements, as he lengthened and stiffened in her grip. She carefully moved along his shaft, fingers grasping with expert agility.

With her free hand she scratched his back, and he reached to take both her wrists, lifting them above her head. He returned to her neck, kissing, nipping.

"I need you now," she said alluringly.

He moved one of hands to lower the bra strap at her shoulder. She smiled bucking slighting, lifting her legs to wrap around him, begging him to rock with her.

“Please tell me this isn't a dream,” he said. “Because I don't want to wake up.”

"It isn't a dream,” she said returning his motions.

She lowered her pants and he helped her. Pulling down her panties, he dove between her legs hungrily, fingers finding her teeming with desire.

He toyed with her gently and he looked up to see her eyes flutter and close. He dipped placing fingertips inside her, gently pushing them within. She shifted with his touch, at a sensation she had been deprived of.

He was in love with her scent which was starting to take him under. She was eager for him, warm, wet, inviting. He moved his lips to her breasts, followed curves with tongue, teeth trailing. His fingers continued their skilled work moving deep, pushing her opening, until she had enough and reached for his face pulling his mouth from her nipple, guiding him up her body.

“I need you inside me.”

She reached for him again, and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. She breathed against his ear, kissed his cheek, her concentration falling to her hands.

She was quick to hold him against her opening, guiding him in, long and hard. She gasped as he bucked slowly. Air was pushing from her slightly with each gentle thrust, and she angled him, brought her teeth to his ear. "That's better."

"You feel so damn good.” He braced himself, lifting from her body. “But I will apologize now. It has been a long time."

"You can make it up to me later," she whispered. She twisted her torso, removing her bra from her body.

"I've wanted you for too long." He pushed deeper, allowed a free hand to run down her body now completely free from garments, and he took her in, memorized every freckle, every line, before the cloud of his passion could take him.

"And you have me, so take me."

He leaned forward and grazed his teeth over her shoulder, nipping gently. She rocked with him. Keeping speed with him, and lifted her pelvis to meet his, sending him further within her, causing her to moan his name.

Waves of their scent were flooding his head, grasping at his core making his movements quicken.

He tried to slow down, but her hips were grinding against him, her heavy breathing resonating in the silence of the room.

Lightning flickered as the familiar wave hit him, sending him over the edge, melting into her form. He collapsed on her chest, sweaty forehead between her breasts as her expertly designed fingers found his hair.

He pushed his full weight onto her. He placed kisses on her breast, teased her nipples and took her in his palm. Her body below him relaxed.

He looked up, thanks in his eyes, and she smiled, and closed hers.

His hand moved down her body finding soft warm folds and he began to flick, rub, tug, until she moved and he knew he had found the spot. She exhaled with his touch. Gasped slightly, and he knew he was on course.

"Oh, please," she gasped.

He kissed her breasts again and pulled a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard.

"So long," she whispered.

He pulled himself up beside her to find her eyes. "That's tragic."

"Not really," she divulged and took a breath, took a second to kiss his jawline. "What is tragic is having to wait seven years to feel you inside me".

He leaned into her, burying his face in her hair. Her voice was raspy, breath thready, and he quickened his movements. Her hips relaxed, legs falling to the side.

He pulled his lips from her and watched the lines on her face form and disappear as she moved through the pleasure. When she was close her eyes opened and she began to kiss him, tongue darting into his mouth. Her blood rushed, and the wave rolled and hit her with warmth as it spread through her body. Her mouth opened and he pulled back to watch her, moved to kiss her breasts as the final course pulsed and she quivered in his arms.

The wave ended and he pulled his hand from her folds, bringing them up to pull her toward him in embrace. She turned into him and curled below his chin, blankets now covering them.

"Thank you," she whispered, as his lightheadedness began to clear and his form focused in front of her.

"I told you."

"Told me what?"

He placed a kiss to her forehead. “You were worth the wait."

  
  


=/\=

  
  


He opened his eyes and rubbed them. He sat up to put on his shorts and padded softly around the bed to her side.

She was sleeping, breathing softly, wrapped in a single thin, white sheet, lightly draped over her body. Her arms were up by her head, one draped across her forehead, her body spread out. She was peaceful, relaxed - the stress of the past month gone from her face. One creamy, smooth leg had escaped from the sheet and he ran his fingertips slowly up it from her toes.

She shifted at the sensation, goosebumps rising on her flesh, and she turned her hips toward him, as a smile began to tighten on her face. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he returned.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

His hand reached the inside of her thigh and stopped, thumb gently tracing, fingertips reaching out.

"We still have a bit of time."

She closed her eyes. "I guess I passed out."

"We both did." His hand moved inside her thigh. "To be honest, I was a little unsure if you would still be here."

Her eyes opened and she sat up. He moved his hand to her hip, pulling her toward him as the thin blanket fell from her body. Her hair was wild, and she ran her hand through it, taming it, while concern spread across her face.

She inched toward him, and reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Chakotay, I'm not going anywhere." She kissed him softly, and licked her lips. Her eyes danced and her smile returned.

He traced the curve of her shoulder with fingertips. "Can I interest you in a shower?" She nodded in agreement, and took him by the hand, moving from the bed.

The soft warm light from the room played across her skin as they made their way to the Sonic shower.

"Computer," he said as they entered it. "Activate sonic shower."

She wrapped her arms around him as the warmth began to hit them. Steam began as beads of water ran down their skin.

"Can I ask something of you?" she asked, her voice muffled against his skin. She pulled back. "Can you do something for me?"

He pulled the hair back from her face. "Oh, I promise to make it up to you."

She grinned. “Not that.”

“What then?”

"Will you stay with me today? Come with me off the ship?"

He closed his eyes and was quiet. "Who is asking?"

Her brow furrowed inquisitively.

"Is it Kathryn or the Captain?"

"Can it be both? A Captain needs her Commander. And I need you."

He took a finger and followed a drop as it fell from her chin, to between her breasts.

She kissed him heatedly and her small hips rocked slowly against him. “Please?” she added with a whimper.

He smiled knowing her intentions, and he reached for her thigh, lifting her carefully in his arms.

She gasped as her back pressed heavily against the wall of the shower. "Is this what you want?" he asked.

Her kiss intensified, tongue and teeth. "Computer, raise the temperature by two degrees".

She lowered her hips pressing into him. "I have dreamed of you in here with me. Touching me, like this. Holding me like this."

They stumbled for a second while he lowered her onto him. Her hands reached out to brace against the wall. One foot lowered to the ground, and in their awkwardness, they found leverage. He bucked into her, harder this time, forcing her back against the wall.

She was wet and hot, and steam was filling the tiny stall.

Her hands were scratching at his back as he pushed further into her. Filling her completely with a last buck.

"Did this happen in your dreams?" he gasped.

"Among other things."

He moved long and hard within her, and bucked hard again, causing her to hit her head against the wall.

"Such as?"

And with a gleam in her eye, "I'll have to show you."

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 7 - "Feels Like the End" - Mikky Ekko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the story to an E rating for safety's sake because of this chapter. Let me know if you think it really isn't. I'm new here to AO3.


	7. Exeunt

****

“ _Closing up shop and locking doors_ _  
_ _Turning up lost in some unknown..._

_Silence so mighty you go deaf;  
Bombs are going off inside your chest...._

_Darkness swallows a dying star.  
Makes no difference what you're running from.  
The voices follow you into the dark_

_Singing where does time go from here?_

_It feels like the end.”_

_\- Mikky Ekko_

****

=/\=

She stared down at the overbearing orb, splattered with hues of green and brown and blue and white. Tirelessly hovering in a void of darkness with glittering stars, incessantly spinning.

It called to her. Summoned her toward it, drawn by obligation; a force she was unable to shake. The weight of her departure gripped her chest tightly, clutched to her ankles, inevitably threatened to drag her from her familiar, tearing her from her comfort.

“Return to me,” it beckoned. It laughed hysterically, grinned at her knowing she had no alternative.

In a few hours she would touch down on its crust, to grip it, squeezing, letting clumps of its shell fall from between her fingers.

But she knew the truth; it was merely a resemblance of home.

She opened her palm, freeing the forsaken badge from her tight grasp, and she looked down at the shiny metal and sighed. Lifting her head, she returned it to its position over her heart.

She took one last look at the Earth, silently cursing it for the ache emanating within her; the grief she was succumbing to.

She looked up to the bulkheads above her, offered a silent prayer, a psalm of gratitude, and she turned abandoning her last look of the planet.

She moved across the floor, to bend over her desk, and looked into the small mirror she had positioned on a stand. Adorned in her formal dress uniform, her hair was perfectly in place, makeup expertly applied, and she removed a cap to apply a deep shade of red to her lips.

Suddenly, the door to her Ready Room opened and there was a burst of air as Chakotay entered. A wave of his cologne hit her senses and she relaxed; was reminded of her happiness, and a feeling of home washed over her.

"Oh good!" she exclaimed, looking up to greet him. With her free hand she tossed him the badge he had offered her hours prior. "Put this on."

Without hesitation, he affixed it to his formal jacket and padded softly to stand at the front of her desk.

She replaced the cap to her lipstick and checked herself in the mirror, tucking an errant piece of hair behind her ear. She moved her hands across the front of her jacket smoothing it. She examined her reflection with care, and her eyes reached her shoulder as she ran her fingers over her pips. One, two, three.

"Right," she said aloud and hastily opened a desk drawer, bending low to peer within it.

"Looking for something?" he questioned.

She raised her eyes. Held within his fingers was her missing pip. "Excellent!" she exclaimed reaching across the desk for it, but he toyed, moving the pip from her grasp. "Chakotay…" she warned, but her tone had little effect, and he smiled clutching the pip tight to his chest.

She moved around the desk, and gave him a smirk. His vacant hand reached forward, and his fingertips toyed with the edge of her coat. Her head tilted back, her voice lowered, "May I please have my pip?"

"What do I get for it?"

"My undying respect and admiration?"

"Thought I already had that."

She smiled, sighing. "Come here," she commanded, calling him forward with her index finger. “I just touched up my lips, but I'll oblige.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

He lowered himself slowly to her, carefully, without touching her. He was baiting her, a careful hint of seduction begging her to draw toward him, give in to the final inches. She smiled and he returned it, and she closed her eyes and offered him a soft gasp, a moan from the depths of her throat. He mimicked her, leaning forward, captivated by her hunger, and she reached for the hand at his chest to seize the pip from his closed palm.

His mouth fell open as she pulled from him. “Oh, you're good.”

“Putty in my hand.” She winked and turned, and moved to her mirror to fidget, replacing her pip in line with the others, perfectly spaced.

She could feel him draw toward her and she caught his reflection in her mirror. "How do I look?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. She ran her hands down her jacket, smoothing it over her body.

His eyes followed intently and she watched his lips pull into a tight smile. The corner of his mouth turned upward. She could feel his eyes begin to undress her, and her cheeks flushed. "To be honest," he started, taking a step toward her, aligning his body with her backside. "I prefer you out of it."

She looked to their reflection again as he placed his hands along the length of her body. He reached up to pull her hair from her neck, and placed several kisses to her nape.

"Chakotay,” she warned. “They will be here soon."

He wrapped an arm around her middle. "Let them wait." Before she had time to refute, he spun her around, lifting her onto her desk, and without hesitation, he searched her mouth. Her dark red lips moved against him.

There were many times during their voyage, after they had completed their morning discussions, and he was set to leave her Ready Room to begin his daily tasks, that she had wanted him to turn and storm back toward her in a torrent of passion, taking her in his arms. To clear the work on her desk in one seductive sweep. To lay her down on her back and have his way with her. To give into their magnetism, and let him completely take her over.

His hand had inched its way up her jacket. He found the zipper and began to lower it. His hands moved within the coat, hungrily grabbed at her while his lips placed kisses along her neckline.

"Chakotay…" she started as he moved down her neck. “What would they say if they found us here?"

"I don't care," he confessed. "I want more." He brought a hand to the back of her head, holding her steady as his lips moved on her skin.

She gasped, and a moan escaped her as he kissed behind her ear.

“That's the spot, isn't it?” he questioned delightfully, taking a long inhale of her skin, her freshly showered hair.

She moved her neck, guiding his lips back to the tender spot. His breath was hitting her lobe, warm and tempting, and it gripped her middle. She reached within her coat to guide his palm to cup her breast. She wore a grey tank top beneath the jacket, and his thumb played along the lines of her cleavage.

“I want you to never stop touching me.”

His teeth trailed, prickling, and her skin rose to meet his lips once again. “Aren't you glad the days of having me serve under you are gone?” His thumb dipped under the fabric of her bra, and stroked her nipple playfully.

She let out a shallow breath at his touch. “I'm sure there will still be days I will require your services.”

“Under you?”

“I would say so.” She reached to cup his face, pulling him from his dedicated work. She ran her thumbs over his lips, removing the red smear she had placed there.

"I missed you," he confessed meeting her eyes. His hands wound their way into her coat, wrapping around her middle, drawing her close.

"It's been 45 minutes."

"Already too long without you." He groaned and his hands dropped from her body. “Besides, can you blame me?” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

She reached behind her and pulled a familiar silver box. She opened it, and his pips shone up at them. "Would you? For me?" Her lips turned into a pout at the request.

He closed his eyes and sighed, nodding slowly, and she began to fasten them to his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered. She looked around the room and released a heavy breath.

“ _Ensign Kelly to Captain Janeway.”_

She inhaled deeply. “Go ahead.”

“ _Captain, I wanted to inform you that the Admiral will be docking soon.”_

“Thank you, Ensign.”

Janeway's cheeks flushed again. She had almost forgotten about the small crew Admiral Paris had sent to Voyager before his arrival. She suddenly felt exposed.

"You okay?" He offered a hand and she took it, and he helped her from the desk.

She reached to zipper her coat. "I will be." She turned and opened her lipstick, deepening her lips once again; removing the smudges he had lovingly gifted her.

She turned back to him, flattening her coat. She raised her arms. “Well?”

He smiled lovingly. “You're exceptional.” And with that, he turned and left the room.

She padded softly to her door and turned. Radiant images of her crew flooded back into her mind.

Soulful conversations with Tuvok. Unwanted medical exams by the Doctor. Reports from the Captain's Assistant. A mission request by a former Borg drone. Enthusiastic debates with B'Elanna. Paris and Neelix covered in sauce fresh from a fight over...

She smiled. _Kes._ She closed her eyes.

_Come on, Chakotay. I cheated death. That's worth a celebration, don't you think? Bottle of champagne? Moonlight sail on Lake George? How does that sound?_

She opened her eyes. “Like something worth living for,” she whispered.

She turned and the door opened for her.

Chakotay was seated in his chair, rubbing his hands down his arm rests. He leaned back and looked up as she drew near; watched her carefully as she crossed her arms.

He tinkered with a control on the panel between their chairs and turned toward her. “The Admiral is docking now," he said sorrowfully.

She looked to him, melancholy gripping tightly to the smile she offered. Her hand reached out and he accepted it gratefully, squeezing it gently.

He took his leave, letting her reside alone in the center of the bridge. When she could hear him at the door, she paced around, examining the consoles to give one final inspection of their interface. All were in fine working order; just like the day she first left Deep Space Nine.

She paused in front of her chair, and took one final slow sit, rubbed her hands over the arm rests, and crossed her legs. She knew what she had to do. She sat up straight, inhaled deeply, begging her voice not to falter.

“Computer, disable main power to the bridge. Security code: Janeway-Alpha-Gamma-22”.

_Main power to the bridge will now be disabled._

Lights flickered and dimmed. Consoles with brightly lit panels started to fade, and she watched as the room slowly turned to black. An eerie silence fell before her. The images of her crew seemingly still in the darkness, engrained in her mind forever. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

She rose from her seat and moved across the floor to run her hands over the center console. She leaned down to whisper, “Thank you.” Letting the tears fall down her cheek, she kissed a finger and placed it to the console. She turned toward the turbolift, and with heavy limbs made her way from the bridge one last time.

As she climbed the stairs, Chakotay smiled reassuringly. “Captain,” he said as he motioned for her to take the lead into the lift. As they turned, the remaining lights dimmed, leaving the bridge in complete darkness. The doors to the lift closed.

=/\=

They walked in silence to the docking bay.

Hands clasped together behind his back, shoulders square, he kept a steady pace just behind her. Chakotay seemed afraid to look at her, unwilling to touch her.

They came to stand outside the double door and she paused, “Here goes,” she whispered with shaky breath and reached for his hand.

He gave it a light squeeze. “I'm right beside you, Captain”.

She lifted her head and with a deep breath the doors opened and she walked through.

The back door to the Starfleet shuttlecraft was lowering as the doors closed behind them, and from the shadows of the craft, emerged three figures.

First, came the familiar distinguished, broad shouldered figure of Admiral Owen Paris. He smiled smugly as he saw Janeway. To his left, an unknown ensign, PADD in hand, pack flung over his shoulder. Slightly behind him, came a figure Janeway was well familiar with now.

Lieutenant Reginald Barclay emerged from the shuttle and raised his eyes to the high ceilings of the shuttlebay. He blinked curiously and pushed his way past the ensign who paid no mind to Chakotay or the Captain, sights focused on his work in hand.

“Admiral Paris,” the Captain began. “Welcome aboard Voyager.”

“Captain Janeway,” he smiled reaching out for her hand. “More importantly, welcome home, Kathryn.” He shook her hand and turned to Chakotay, turning his nose slightly at the ex-Maquis.

Janeway cleared her throat. “Admiral, my First Officer, Commander Chakotay.”

The two men eyed each other and the air began to become tense. The Admiral reached out his hand and shook Chakotay's. “Thank you, Commander,” he said smiling. “Starfleet Command is grateful for everything your crew has done for this ship.”

“Voyager is a fine vessel, Admiral,” Chakotay added. “Led by an exceptional Captain. It has been an honor to serve _under_ her.”

Janeway lowered her eyes, and begged her cheeks to keep from blushing.

Barclay danced beside them, unable to contain his excitement. “Captain Janeway,” he said reaching out enthusiastically for her hand. “May I say wh-wh-what an honor it is to finally meet you face-to-face.”

Janeway shook his hand gratefully. “Lieutenant Barclay, welcome aboard Voyager.” She smiled warmly. “I must say you were like a member of my crew. ” Barclay continued his dance. “If it wasn't for all your hard work on the Pathfinder Project, we'd still be lost out there.”

“Oh, I-I-I I'd never give up on Voyager. No, not for a second.” He took her hands in his own and held them tightly. “But please, Captain, call me Reg. All my friends do.”

Janeway pulled her hands from his and reached up to cup his face. “Thank you, Reg. We are all eternally grateful to you.” She pulled him in and gave him a hug. Barclay closed his eyes.

The Admiral cleared his throat. “Captain, you may remember the pilot I have assigned to bring you home.”

Janeway pulled away from her hug and turned her gaze toward the figure emerging from the shuttlecraft. Her heart skipped, her face tightened as she held back tears. “Tom!” she exclaimed as she quickened toward him.

“Captain,” he said lovingly as he pulled her in for a hug. “Are you ready to go home?”

She ignored the question and pulled back looking at his collar. “Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris,” She remarked with glee as Chakotay came up behind them. She pressed her palms flat over her shoulders.

“Congratulations, Tom,” Chakotay said with a smile, as he shook his hand.

“I would have wanted to do the honors,” she remarked sadly. “So well deserved, Tom. Congratulations!” Her hands moved to his face and like a proud mother, she looked upon him, tears in her eyes. How much he has grown. From the scrawny, hot headed ex-con, to new father, to Lieutenant Commander. She pulled him in again. “I'm so proud of you,” she whispered. He placed his head on her shoulder and squeezed her tighter.

They held the moment until the Admiral finally cleared his throat again. “Well, Captain. Shall we?”

Janeway pulled back and straightened her jacket. “Yes.”

Chakotay placed his hands by his side. “Attention to Orders!” he boomed. His voice echoed off the walls of the bay.

The crew the Admiral brought returned to the group and they also stood at attention. The Admiral reached out and Lieutenant Barclay placed a PADD in his hand. It carried the official insignia of Starfleet Command on the back.

The Admiral cleared his throat. “Captain Kathryn Janeway, Commanding Officer, _USS Voyager_ , Stardate 55057.9. You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of your vessel to Admiral Owen Paris, Admiral, Starfleet Command as of this date.”

Janeway let a tear fall down her cheek. “Computer, transfer all command codes to Admiral Owen Paris. Voice authorization: Janeway-Delta-Nine.”

The computer chimed. _Transfer complete. USS Voyager now under the command of Admiral Owen Paris._

The Admiral reached out for Janeway's hand. “I relieve you, Sir.”

Janeway cleared her throat and shook his hand. “I stand relieved.”

She turned and met Chakotay's gaze. He nodded slowly and motioned for Janeway to lead the way onto the shuttlecraft.

=/\=

A low shudder echoes along the ceiling of the shuttlebay as Voyager releases a held breath, dumping the air from her Jefferies tubes, just as Tom engages the thrusters, lifting the shuttlecraft slowly from the dock's floor, removing her Captain from her forever.

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 8 - "Hold On" - Sarah McLachlan


	8. Passage

****

“ _Am I in heaven here or am I..._

_At the cross roads I am standing._

_Hold on. Hold on to yourself_

_for this is gonna hurt like hell.”_

_\- Sarah McLachlan_

****

=/\=

“Captain on the bridge,” Tom declared as Janeway entered the craft ahead of him.

Janeway smiled, giving him a sideways glance, and surveyed the cockpit. The white interior gleamed as fresh control panels blinked anxiously. She watched Tom's hands move about the panels with precision, his high-backed white leather chair rotating with ease. She could still smell the freshness of the carpet at her feet.

“I'm sorry to be bringing you home in a shuttle, Captain. But I really thought you deserved more than a transporter. Give you one more look at Voyager.”

“Thank you, Tom.” She approached him at the helm as he engaged the thrusters. “Wow,” she exclaimed looking out the view port in front of them. “Is this new?”

“Welcome aboard the Argo, Captain. She is the first of her kind, state of the art, equipped with recessed warp nacelles, and fit with foldable wings. I'm told they are going to be creating an all-terrain buggy in the back which will be able to control the shuttle remotely."

"All-terrain? What for?" Janeway inquired sarcastically. "Can't this thing maneuver easily?"

"On a dime, so to speak."

Janeway smiled at his usage of the North American, twentieth century phrase. "So why the all-terrain vehicle?"

Tom turned slowly in his chair to look at the Captain, a look of confusion spread to his face.

"Because it's fun," Chakotay remarked matter-of-factly, joining Tom's bewilderment.

Janeway shook her head. "Boys and their toys," she uttered.

"She may be pretty, but I can tell you she is no Delta Flyer.” Tom paused remembering fondly, he turned his chair around, and lifted the craft from the floor. His passengers were quiet. “I'm told it will be ready for release next year. They wanted me to give her a few short range test runs. My guess is she was commissioned for the Enterprise-D.”

"Or Enterprise-E, knowing that crew," Janeway chuckled. “How many of those ships are they going to make anyway?”

“And just think what Voyager accomplished,” Chakotay added fondly.

Janeway lowered her head. "There will only be one of her."

“She was a tough girl. Wasn't she?” Tom mused.

 _Was_.

Slowly, Tom inched the shuttle across the bay and through the barrier, exiting the ship.

“She had one of the best pilots around," Janeway added, patting Tom lightly on his shoulder.

“Is Picard still Captain of the Enterprise?” inquired Chakotay as he took a seat to Janeway's right.

“I believe so,” Tom said. Janeway watched as he engaged the auto-pilot. “Rumor has it they tried to make him Admiral but he turned them down.”

“Can't take some of us away from the journey, so it seems," Janeway said sadly.

Tom engaged more systems, lowering the Argo's wings. “There should be a chilled bottle of champagne on the table behind us, Captain,” Tom said motioning to the back corner of the cockpit. “It's vintage and I can confirm it's not from any replicator. They really pulled out all the stops for you.”

Janeway smiled and looked to Chakotay who had taken no time to rise and pop the cork. He poured a small amount into a glass and took a sip. “This is good stuff. You weren't kidding, Tom.”

“How did you get stuck with this mission, Tom?” the Captain asked patting him on his shoulder, making notes as he engaged another engine.

“When the Admiral offered me the chance to bring Voyager's Captain home, who am I to say, 'No'.”

Janeway brushed a hand over the back of Tom's hair, "Well we're certainly in the best hands."

Tom cleared his throat as Chakotay came up behind them with glasses. He handed one to Janeway. "Didn't think I'd find you here too, Chakotay? I see you have even picked up some new pips. I hate to say it, but they look good on you."

Chakotay looked down at his glass. "Well, don't get too used to it. They are just for show." He took a long, slow sip, and turned to top-up his glass, avoiding Janeway's gaze.

His tone was suddenly bold, and it was the first Janeway understood the burden these pips held for him, the gravity his uniform carried; a weight he braved because she asked him to. Her head fell to the side, and she closed her eyes.

“You want me to come about, Captain? Take one long look at her?”

Janeway opened her eyes and sipped from her glass. She offered no instruction.

“That would be nice, Tom,” Chakotay said, returning to them.

The Argo slowly came up along the hull of the ship, and they passed by darkened windows and quiet corridors. An empty Mess Hall. A disregarded Sick Bay. Thrusters hummed as they rose up over Voyager looking down on her darkened bridge, her vacant Ready Room. As they moved across her bow, her main light went out, and the ship's hull was left in shadow; her registry numbers falling into darkness.

She felt it begin to rise at the back of her throat, then it hit her with a weighted force. Janeway couldn't hold it back any longer, and she took another swig of the cool liquid, forcing it down her throat. Hiding her face from Chakotay, she excused herself from the front of the ship.

She retreated and found refuge in a corner at the back of the shuttle, safe within the noise of the ship's engines, and with heavy limbs sank to the floor. She burst into tears. Hands rising to her face, she slumped herself against a utility box and let the tears flow.

She was safe in the dark recesses of the craft, hidden in shadow, her cries muffled. Ache resonated in her shoulders; tired from holding everything together for so long. The makeup of her life was draining from her; falling between her fingers as she tried to collect it, to pour and pool at her feet.

There was nothing left to cling to; the semblance of the life she thought she had created was being stripped from her. And for the first time in a long time, she felt helpless. For the first time in seven years, she felt truly lost.

He didn't say anything when he found her, just moved to her side, sitting beside her on the floor of the shuttle. She didn't attempt to hide from him, and curled against him when he offered to pull her in, drawing his arm around her. His fingertips in her hair, he continued his feathered touch along her body and let her cry.

She released a heavy breath and sunk against his body. Her hand reached out to clutch to his jacket, tethering her to the safety he offered. There was comfort in his arms, in the way his hands moved over her. It was true they had always maintained a closeness that needed no definition, and words could be left unsaid in the safety created by their trust. But she had never allowed him to truly take her over – until now.

There had been so many opportunities over the past years where she could have sought refuge in his embrace, but couldn't. There were appearances she had to maintain. And in a profession still domineered by men, it was a considered fragility she had to honor, that she was determined to continue to re-write.

It was a legacy she had to protect; carry forward from every woman in the command structure that came before her. It was a struggle lost on her male counterparts who could easily blur the lines of regulations, of protocol.

In her early years, she promised herself she would be different.

Walls had to be erected. Lines were drawn, never to be crossed. She had never allowed herself the opportunity to think she needed anyone, needed anything more than command, and her own stubbornness kept her honest, kept her true.

And in this honesty, she could do it on her own. Kathryn Janeway, the ever faithful, dutiful independent woman, to command the stars and have them fall to their knees at her feet.

And she knew she was right to have done so, as there was safety in his arms, and his hands were wondrous on her body. Skillfully, he was slowly pulling her back from the darkness, and she was grateful.

When her sobs lightened, he rocked her gently, squeezed her shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” she said finally with a shaky voice against his chest. “So stupid. Crying over a ship.”

He shook his head, and took her face so her eyes would meet his.

Mascara ran down her cheeks; a mother's sadness drained the blue that once shone from her eyes. He ran a thumb over her cheeks, helped to clean the black shadows that smudged her face, and put his Captain back in place.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Voyager was more than a ship.” He smiled down at her as she drew back in to curl against his chest. “She carried us. Protected us. Gave us everything she could and more. She was our home." He stared off across the shuttle, focussed on a blank space. “I'm going to miss her too.”

Janeway gripped to his jacket tightly as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

She had never thought that he would feel the same way about her ship. The predicaments that led him to Voyager had been against his will. And while his loyalty had been unwavering, the vessel he was on was Starfleet; created by a Starfleet design team, run by Starfleet engineers, commanded by a Starfleet captain.

What she didn't know was that home was wherever she was, and he would fight to maintain it.

"Everything I have is being taken away,” she confessed sadly. “And there is nothing I can do about it. I feel so helpless."

"Not everything," he squeezed her tightly, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere." He stroked her hair, pulled a few strands back from her face.

"Something inside is telling me I don't deserve this. I have a sinking feeling that something will take you away from me."

"Not going to happen." He smiled. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. You're stuck with me. Nothing is going to tear me away from you."

She sighed, her mouth turned into a pout, chin wrinkling. "I'm not strong enough for this."

A few tears escaped again and he wiped them. "You are, but let me help. Take my hand, and we'll face it together." He entwined his fingers with hers. "Like we've done before."

"You're sweet."

"I love you."

Years before he had struggled to say the words, but they fell from his lips so easily this time. Unwavering, they danced in the air between them, reaching out to wrap her in comfort. And it wasn't as if he had to say it, offer her the solemn vow; she had always known.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

"Gladly."

Their kiss was gentle, lingering longer this time. The salt from her tears touched his tongue, and he pulled back to lick his lips, slowly lowering to offer another gentle kiss.

“You should go,” she said finally, quietly, afraid to be found in their careful embrace. “Tom will think something is up.”

“Something is up.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I'm sure he already suspects. There really isn't any sense in hiding it.”

She sighed. “Please, Chakotay - for appearances sake.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “All right. For appearance. But I'm telling you-” He rose slowly and began to move away from her. “-the kids are always the first to know when something is wrong.”

=/\=

It was several moments before Janeway returned to the cockpit of the vessel. She looked out the front of the ship as Earth loomed before them, quickly approaching.

Tom turned as she neared, a tender smile painted on his face. “You had better take a seat, Captain. I'm not quite sure how this girl is going to handle reentry.”

Chakotay eased up beside her and she looked up slowly. “You okay?” he whispered, and squeezed her hand, leading her to her chair. She sat and crossed her legs, returned a squeeze to his hand, grateful for his reassurance.

Locked in their tender moment, they were too preoccupied to notice Tom observing silently.

The Commander was offering the Captain a glass of champagne, and Tom watched as Chakotay's fingers lingered delicately on the Captain's hand. He watched as her free hand gently reached out to the Commander's pant leg, gingerly touching the fabric with her fingertips. They continued their interaction and their eyes met, and Tom experienced a new layer to what he had witnessed so many times before. Their secret interaction was not lost on him, and a wide smile spread to his face. For there was something profound in the way their eyes found each other, the way they reached out. For it wasn't their touch that had triggered him, but how it lingered, afraid to let go.

There was a yearning shared between them, completely bare.

“Ok,” Tom said finally, turning back to look out the viewport. “So how long did it take you guys?”

“For what?” Chakotay asked, tension rising in his voice.

“To profess your undying love for one another,” Tom said matter-of-factly. He expertly continued to move his hands over the controls.

“I beg your pardon,” the Captain added, agitated.

He turned his chair around. “Can we finally call you two an item now?”

Janeway blushed, but said nothing. She stared at Tom, unblinking, a furrow to her brow. She felt exposed, annoyed. It had been all of an hour since she had left Chakotay's quarters, where they had agreed to keep their relationship a secret until Voyager's decent and all the excitement could die down. Then once command had been shifted, they could finally return to each other's arms, and start anew.

Tom chuckled. “I'm never going to hear the end of this from B'Elanna, am I?” He returned to his controls, disengaging the auto-pilot, and the shuttle rocked gently as it handed over control.

“How so?” Chakotay added.

“She had you two down for the day you came home.” He looked over his shoulder to Janeway. “She was right, wasn't she?” He rolled his eyes in defeat at Janeway's blank stare.

“Was there an ongoing bet?” Chakotay inquired carefully, smiling. Janeway cast him a glare.

“Some might have put a wager in. But we knew. It's not as if you two tried to hide it.”

“Who knew?” Chakotay turned to Janeway and shrugged.

“The crew. Ship-wide. Even the Captain's Assistant had her own validations.” Tom smiled remembering. “Naomi always believed you two were in love.”

An awkward tension blanketed the shuttle. “Oh, come on, you two,” Tom continued. “It's not as if it was a secret.” With one hand on the main control, he turned his chair slightly to look at Janeway. “Yes, Captain. Even Tuvok figured you two out.”

Janeway's eyes opened wide, feeling exposed, and a nervous smile spread to her lips. She quickly covered it with her hand.

“Right?” Tom said reading her. “Who knew the Vulcan was such a romantic.”

=/\=

The shuttle rocked as it made its way through the barrier of Earth's atmosphere, and Janeway clutched the armrests of her chair. As the Argo cleared, and the rocking subsided, Janeway pulled herself forward to stand behind Tom, and rested her hands on his shoulders.

A few clouds could now be made out as San Fransisco quickly approached. The sun was setting, and the sky was lit with hues of orange, yellow, purple and blue. She sighed, welcomed it, pulled it in like a long lost friend.

Chakotay came to stand beside her. “What a sight,” he said and encircled his hand around her waist.

She didn't hide her tears this time but let them fall. She was home.

Starfleet Headquarters opened up to them as they drew closer to the surface. Fairly unchanged since the last time she had seen it. Tom notified them of their docking and pulled toward his designated shuttle bay. They pulled within the brightly lit corridor and the ship braced with ease to the floor.

Tom had been correct; the ship truly turned on a dime. The landing was utter perfection.

Tom shut down the Argo's engines, pressing buttons on the pads in front of him. The lights within the shuttle brightened.

He sighed and turned in his chair. “Captain, Commander.” He nodded to them. “Welcome home.”

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 9 - "Fire on Fire" - Sam Smith and Steve Mac


	9. Fire on Fire

****

“ _They say that we're out of control and some say we're sinners_

_But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms  
'Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me  
And look in my eyes_

_You are perfection. My only direction. It's fire on fire.”_

_-Sam Smith and Steve Mac_

****

  
=/\=

_Vice Admiral Patterson inhales deeply as he sees her enter through his office door. “Captain Kathryn Janeway, as I live and breathe. You sure do clean up nice.”_

_She smiles and opens her arms, looking down at her uniform. “It's always been a dream of mine, Sir.”_

“ _It suits you.” The Admiral stands from his desk and moves across the floor to meet her. They share a hug, a light pat to each other's back, and when they part, he continues, “I'll be blunt, Katie. Your first orders are to proceed to the Badlands, find a Maquis ship, and bring them home.”_

“ _I'm sorry?” Her brow furrows. “The Maquis? Badlands? I thought this Maquis problem was being handled?”_

_He sighs and nods his head. “I know. It sounds daunting, but Starfleet needs you. We'll need Voyager's help to rein them in.” He brings his hand forward and reaches out to touch her arm. “You're still good friends with Lieutenant Tuvok?”_

“ _I am,” she raises an eyebrow. “Why?”_

“ _Tuvok has been working undercover aboard a raider-type craft operated by the Maquis.”_

“ _I see.”_

“ _We are trying to put an end to this conflict. Tuvok is aboard the Val Jean under the command of Captain Chakotay.”_

“ _Who is this Chakotay?” she asks, his name falling awkwardly from her lips. “The name sounds familiar.”_

_The Admiral folds his hands behind his back, and lifts his chin toward her. “He is a former Starfleet officer turned dissident.” He inhales deeply. His voice lowers. “He has abandoned his duties and made a mockery of this uniform.”_

_She nods slowly. “Well, I'll need assistance. I'm still looking for a good pilot.”_

“ _We will work out crew details shortly. In the meantime, let's get you acquainted with the final upgrades of your ship.”_

_He moves to a screen on a nearby wall and enters functions onto a keypad. The screen blips. A series of photos flash before them. Her lips purse, impressed by the design of her new ship._

_She looks over the image of Voyager rotating on the screen. “She is a tiny thing, isn't she?”_

“ _Don't let the schematics fool you. She'll pack a punch.” He enters another command on the keypad and the image rotates showing Voyager's torpedo bays. “Voyager has been equipped with 38 photon torpedoes with type VI warheads and two tricobalt devices.”_

“ _Is all of this necessary, Admiral? It's just one Maquis ship. Not to mention, it's a relic. The Val Jean, you say?" She raises a hand, directing their attention back towards the monitor. “Clearly, I'll have the upper hand.”_

“ _The last we heard from the Val Jean, they were being pursued by the Cardassian warship Vetar.” He sighs, a softness coming to his eyes. “This won't be easy, and if it were completely up to me, I wouldn't be sending you out there.” His head tilts. “But with Voyager's warp drive you'll have speed on your side. She won't let you down.”_

_She is eager and stands upright, lifts her chin. “It's been a long three months awaiting these orders, Sir. I assure you I am ready.”_

_The Admiral reaches forward and holds her by the shoulders. “I know you are, Katie. You've been ready since the day you first put on a Starfleet uniform. But the Maquis are a dangerous group. Rogues and rebels. They have forgotten who they are.” He straightens the shoulders of her uniform. “Never forget who you are. You are Starfleet. Abide by everything this uniform stands for. Everything I have taught you.”_

“ _I will, Sir.” She smiles reassuringly. “Leave it to me, Admiral. I'll bring these Maquis home wrapped with a bow.”_

_He smiles and reaches forward, offering his hand. She returns the gesture and shakes it firmly. “Congratulations, Captain. I have no doubt that your mission will be a complete success.”_

=/\=

The back door of the Argo touched down on the floor of the docking bay, and Tom popped his head out.

“They told me there would be a welcoming party, Captain,” he said, returning his sights back to Chakotay and Janeway who stood by, closely knit together.

Chakotay's hand moved slowly down the Captain's backside to rest at the curve of her ass.

Tom raised an eyebrow. “We had better see what the delay is.” He lowered his head, ducking under the doorway of the craft.

Janeway sighed as she watched Tom walk ahead across the floor of the bay, disappearing through a doorway to their left. "Ok," she said smiling, turning, releasing Chakotay's hand from her. "We need to be better at this."

"Better at what?" He took her by both arms and guided her toward a nearby wall. He smiled hungrily, and his lips were on her swiftly. He was warm, his breath heavy, and his arms wrapped firmly around her, squeezing her tightly.

"At appearances,” she said finally, pulling from his lips.

He drew her in closer, rocked against her slowly. He leaned in, dipped his lips to her neck. "I want your legs wrapped around me,” he whispered, hot breath against her tender flesh. “I want to taste you." He brushed his lips against her ear lobe. "I want to be inside you again."

She felt the red rise to her cheeks, and the trembling in her middle. She opened her mouth to say something but Tom entered the craft, out of breath.

They turned quickly toward him. Chakotay's hands released her and he cleared his throat.

"Honestly, I leave you two alone for one minute,” Tom said as he approached them slowly. He took a moment to look at them, and an awkward silence fell over the back of the ship. “You are commanding officers, and as such, are expected to maintain the standard for the rest of the crew." He drew near to them, and moved slowly to look Chakotay in the eyes. "But this adolescent behavior makes me question my faith in you both.” He raised an eyebrow. “I seem to be rubbing off on you." He grinned, and moved slowly to Janeway, looking down at her in mock disdain. "With all due respect, Captain," his voice lowered to a whisper. "Get a room."

“We had one,” Chakotay muttered under his breath as Tom turned toward the door. Janeway elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“Come on,” Tom motioned. “Starfleet's welcoming party is on its way.”

They moved to the back of the Argo and exited down the small ramp to the large bay.

The evening sun was shining through the bay's large windows, cascading a gentle orange light in the room. Several small shuttles lined the walls of the bay in various states of dissection. A massive Starfleet Command emblem embellished the floor.

Three men in newly pressed Starfleet dress uniforms approached them. Her eyes quickly glanced at their ranks as they drew near, happy there had not been a change in pips since she was last home.

The Fleet Admiral was new and he was the first to reach out for her hand. He was tall with a darkened complexion, greying hair and dark, sunken eyes. “Captain Kathryn Janeway," he said with a thick accent. He shook her hand. "Welcome home. I am Damien Rodriguez.”

“Thank you, Sir. It's nice to meet you.” The handshake was long and awkward and Janeway could feel his black eyes burning into her, reading her. “Is Admiral Shanthi still with us?” she inquired.

He finally released her hand and folded them in front of his body. “Retired last year on Risa, I believe. Living the dream.”

“Well, that's good to hear.” Janeway fidgeted with the cuffs of her coat, straightening her sleeves. “She was always kind to me.”

A familiar face emerged behind Rodriquez, and Janeway reached out for his hand, “Admiral Hayes," she greeted. "Good to see you in the flesh, Sir.”

“Yes, likewise,” Hayes returned awkwardly.

Janeway waited for him to continue, having been victim many times to the Admiral's long winded speeches, but Hayes remained oddly quiet. There seemed to be a hint of tension between the two men in front of her.

She raised an eyebrow and turned her sights back to Rodriguez who motioned to a man to his left

“Captain Janeway, allow me to introduce, Admiral-”

“Bullock,” interrupted Chakotay, squeezing past to stand slightly in front of Janeway.

The man looked bewildered at having been recognized. “Yes, Gareth Bullock. Have we met?”

Chakotay gripped Bullock's hand and looked at Janeway smiling, as she remembered their encounter with a Bullock counterpart impersonated by Species 8472. “Well, no, not in this lifetime.” Chakotay smiled warmly as he shook the man's hand. “Just by reputation.”

Bullock straightened his jacket. “Well, I hope it's a good one.”

Janeway cleared her throat, her hand motioned towards Chakotay. “Gentlemen, may I introduce, my First Officer? Commander Chakotay.”

Hayes was the next to offer his hand and he shook without making eye contact with Chakotay. Rodriguez followed suit, reaching out to gingerly take the Commander's hand. He gave it a light shake.

Janeway watched as Rodriguez moved his hand to his pant leg, rubbing his palm across the fabric. The motion was intended to be discreet, but Janeway's brow furrowed slowly, and her lips parted.

Rodriguez blinked several times and his lips pressed together. “I trust your flight in was satisfactory?”

“It was,” she smiled warmly at Tom. “I had a great pilot.”

“Yes, indeed,” Rodriguez remarked. He motioned for the group to begin walking toward the back of the bay.

As the others led the way, Rodriguez stayed behind with Janeway. “You must be looking forward to a great many things, Captain," he continued. "Starting fresh? A new exciting leap in your career?”

“To be honest, I'm most looking forward to experiencing a good rain, Sir.” She smiled to herself, thinking of the way it would feel on her face. The smell that would envelope her senses. “It's one of the things I missed the most.”

“I think many will agree with you, Captain,” and off her inquisitive look, “We are in the midst of one of the worst draughts in a long time.”

“That is unfortunate.”

Rodriguez slowed to a stop and Janeway joined him. “Captain,” he began. “Starfleet has requested you speak to the public in a moment.” He was quick to raise a hand, interrupting her silent protest. “Something brief, something to calm the excitement surrounding Voyager's journey home. As you might imagine, your sudden appearance in the Alpha Quadrant caused quite a stir.”

“I've received word of this _excitement_.” She took a sharp inhale. “No one notified me of this speech, Admiral. I have nothing prepared.”

“That's quite all right, Captain. We have prepared something for you to say.” His eyes looked up as he gave Chakotay a side-eye. "We figured you'd have your hands tied." His eyes began to narrow and he turned his sights back to her. "We're all very anxious to hear your reasoning for turning the Maquis into members of your crew. For giving them the same freedoms as the rest of their Starfleet counterparts."

She cleared her throat, and raised an eyebrow carefully. "We were lost, Admiral. I had to utilize my resources."

"Still..." He folded his hands behind his back, shoulders straight, and continued to follow the small group in front of them. "They are convicted felons, rebels. Wanted by the laws that govern the Federation."

"And?"

He looked down his nose at her. "And you are a Starfleet Captain."

She scoffed. "What would you have me do? Lock them in the brig for the duration of the trip?"

"Precisely."

Janeway's brow furrowed. Her eyes narrowed. "I stand by my decision, _Sir,_ " she said firmly, satisfied with the sudden frigidness behind her words.

He chuckled softly. "Well, whatever you did on that ship, you certainly made a respectable man out of one of our most wanted." The corner of his lips lowered. "Even if those pips seem out of place, I'm sure Starfleet will make use of him."

She stopped walking and Rodriguez turned to face her.

"Chakotay is one of the most honorable men I have ever had the pleasure of working with.” Her voice fell to the back of her throat and she looked at him with an icy cold stare. “He deserves our gratitude for the way he conducted himself." Her features warmed as she looked to find Chakotay deep in conversation with Bullock while they waited for them at the edge of the doorway. "He was my most loyal confidant. He garnered my deepest respect."

He scowled as his eyes trailed her uniform up and down. "Yes, well, seven years trapped out there with a crew of rebels, let's hope that all he garnered." He gave her a wry smile seeing her blush, her lips part. "Honestly, I want to know how you managed to convince Council, especially President Zife to pardon him. And in quite the record time, might I add."

"Chakotay saved my life. Protected the lives of the crew. He deserves more than a pardon. He deserves the respect of the council."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Captain." Disdain encircled his words, and he lowered his voice as he drew in. "I would assume it was going to cost more to the Federation to have him outside of it than within." And with that, Rodriguez continued towards the giant double doors of the bay.

She trailed her hands down her body trying to calm her nerves, heal the anger that was starting to rage within her. She let out a strong sigh and Rodriguez turned back to her.

"Don't look so tense, Kathryn," he said. "You'll do fine. Just stick to the script." There was a warning in his voice.

She followed the group through the doors and they moved down corridors of random repair rooms with large glass windows. Inside, a few workers went about their business repairing engine parts, tinkering, improving systems.

As the group walked by, the workers dropped what they were doing, annoyed to be stopping their work. But as the Admirals passed by, and Janeway and Chakotay remained to look in on their work area, the small crew looked up to her, mouths agape and they stood straight. One nodded with respect and she smiled, returning his gesture.

"Looks like word is getting around,” Chakotay said, leaning down to her.

It appeared so.

=/\=

Janeway and Chakotay continued to follow the Admirals and Tom down the hallway where a large double door awaited them.

Chakotay fidgeted beside her, running a finger inside the collar of his uniform jacket. Small beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

“You okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“This thing.” He exhaled deeply. “Has this always been this tight?"

“You'll be fine,” she reassured him. She ran her hand down his arm and gave his hand a squeeze. "Just stick by side, will you? Whatever is through those doors."

“Always.”

The doors gave way and they were greeted with an eruption of applause and cheer. The welcoming party were situated above the commotion, on a small platform with a set of stairs to their left, and as they descended slowly, the familiar faces of their crew opened up for Janeway and Chakotay.

She was filled instantly with joy and relief as several of them greeted her with a toast, with hugs, with hand shakes. Her Voyager family were all here, gathered together to see her, and for the first time since she left her ship, she felt truly home.

Through the crowd's noise Janeway could make out the small whimper of a baby, and she looked up to see B'Elanna holding a small bundle. She excused herself and she motioned for Chakotay to join her, retreating from their small entourage.

Quickly, she moved to B'Elanna's side and with open arms, hugged them. A new crowd had formed around them, but her sights were only on the baby as she pulled little Miral into her arms. Chakotay held a hand to the small of Janeway's back, and reached around her to let the baby grasp his finger.

“She's getting so big, B'Elanna!” Janeway remarked as she bent to smell the top of her head.

Janeway looked up curiously as Chakotay cupped Miral's face in his palm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Janeway and B'Elanna watched as his lips moved in silent prayer. He leaned forward and kissed the baby on her forehead.

“What was that?” Janeway asked gently as he rose.

“That's between Miral and me.” He placed a hand flat to her back and looked on the three of them. “Would you ladies excuse me?”

They watched him leave, disappearing into a small crowd of people.

“So... How long has this been going on?” B'Elanna inquired as soon as Chakotay was out of hearing range.

Janeway looked up, her face flushed. She waited for B'Elanna to emphasize but she did not, and there was no mistaking what she was referring to. “Tom didn't waste any time, did he?”

“He knew?!” She reached forward to cover the baby's ears. “That little PetaQ,” she muffled angrily under her breath.

”It's not at all common knowledge.” Janeway leaned toward her, lowering her voice. “It's all very, very new. No one knows yet. Certainly not Starfleet. And we'd like to keep it that way.”

“Oh, but it's not going to last long.” She pointed across the room to Chakotay who avoided her gaze as she found him. “He is looking like he wants to devour you.”

Janeway blushed and a wide smile came to her face.

“Unless...” B'Elanna's face contorted with slight disgust at her revelation. “Already?!"

“This is embarrassing,” Janeway whispered to Miral.

B'Elanna's face relaxed. “Mind you, you two have been dancing around this for the last seven years. You wouldn't believe the number of people who thought you were practically married.”

“Tom told us about that too.”

B'Elanna smiled. “It's good, Captain. The crew will be so happy for you.”

Janeway shook her head slightly, unsure if she believed her.

From across the room, a figure emerged. Dressed in a tight fitted, blue dress with plunging neckline and long sleeves, her wavy blonde hair hung down to her shoulders, pulled back from her face with a clip.

 _Almost all the crew would be happy_ , she thought.

“Come on, Miral.” B'Elanna reached forward to pick the infant carefully from Janeway's arms. “Auntie Kathryn has to make her rounds, and we have to find your father.” She placed the infant to rest against her chest. “I have a feeling Daddy is trying to get out of his bet.”

=/\=

She found her in the crowd again, swaying slightly to the music that played, a glass in her hand, which Janeway expected was more for show than usage.

Seven looked up as she approached. Her blue eyes had darkened, deepened by the shade of her dress and the light in the room. "You look lovely." Janeway said smiling, approvingly looking over her attire.

"I am being house in shared quarters with Ensign Brooks. She has suggested I put forth a greater effort when it comes to my physical appearance. That it would ease the public's apprehension."

Janeway reached forward to take Seven's arm and she held it gently. “How are you doing? Are you all right?"

“I am.”

“And everyone has been kind?”

“Indeed." Seven tilted her chin toward the Captain. "I believe most are afraid. They keep themselves at a safe proximity."

“Ah.” Janeway nodded sadly, and looked down at Seven's nails which were freshly manicured, painted gold. “And how is Icheb?” She looked up. "Is he here?"

“He is settling in nicely. Much better than I am.” She pointed across the room. “He is already conversing with his female counterparts at the Academy.”

Janeway smiled with tight lips as she made out his form mimicking conversation etiquette with a few young girls who appeared to be close in age.

Beside him was Chakotay, and when she made eye contact with him, he offered a solemn smile.

“And how is the Commander?” Seven inquired.

“He is good,” she replied.

For a moment, she forgot who had asked about him, and the smile spread slowly to her lips. B'Elanna was right -- their secret wasn't going to be a secret for long.

She placed a hand to Seven's shoulder. “Come with me. Come say, Hi.”

“I cannot.”

Janeway could read the avoidance in her eyes, her unwillingness to discuss the matter further, but she pressed her. “Seven,” she continued. “I hope you know I didn't mean for any of this.”

“It is acceptable, Captain.” Seven raised her eyes. “I am ...” She paused and tilted her head to the side finding the right words. “...happy for you both.”

Janeway looked down at her hands, played with a finger nervously. “I never meant for this to be awkward.”

“I am aware. Through my studies of human interaction, it became quite apparent that the Commander has only ever had eyes for you.” She raised an eyebrow. “To coin a phrase."

=/\=

She was waiting at a small makeshift bar for a drink when he found her, and slipped his hand in hers, carefully pulling her from a crowd of eager Ensigns attempting to get the eye of the bartender.

Chakotay led her to a quiet corner, hidden behind large plants and long, navy blue curtains that hung from the ceiling. His grip on her hand had tightened as they neared the darkness the curtain created. It blocked out the noise and lights from the party.

A small table was beside them and he wrapped his arm around her, supporting her as he lifted her carefully onto it. He leaned against her.

“I've been away from you for too long,” he growled. He trailed a fingertip over her cheek, down her jawline. “I miss your skin. Your touch. Your lips.” He moved his hands down her body, letting his fingers inch upward under her jacket, dipping beneath the waist of her pants.

“We can't do this here,” she breathed into his ear.

“But you feel so good.” He kissed her. “And I have to admit...”

“Admit what?”

He dipped his tongue into her mouth, brushed against her teeth and tongue.

“I'm jealous of this uniform.” His fingertips gripped the zipper of her jacket and lowered it. “How it gets to be so close to you.” His lips were on her jawline as his hands ran up her body, cupping her breasts. “Hugging your every curve.” His hands moved down her body.

“I have to give a speech,” she said weakly.

“Let it wait.” He loosened her button, lowered the zipper of her pants.

She breathed his name, but her protest fell into nothingness as he dipped his hand inside her pants.

With each touch he was erasing countless cold nights that left her with heartache and loneliness. Warming her insides, reigniting the fire within her. Slowly, with each caress, she could feel the walls around her beginning to crumble. Slowly, she was beginning to let go.

But there was always a tug at the back of her head, some warning that would be set off. And it was a struggle to silence it. It had built up over the years. Perhaps it was out of fear, perhaps it was out of necessity. But she struggled to find that aspect of her life, to give into it freely again. It was something she could not tell him. At least not yet.

But his arms had always been safe; his touch peaceful. If she could only open her mouth, and begin to tell him...

“Please,” she whispered, as his lips moved to her neck to kiss below her ear. “Chakotay, please,” she repeated and she took his face in her hands. He stopped and he looked up to meet her eyes.

There was a fiery sadness in them. A desire she could not match in the moment. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. _Wait for me_ , she begged him silently. _Wait for me to get to where you are_.

=/\=

With Chakotay by her side, Janeway moved into a small windowless room away from the hustle of the party. A hush fell over the occupants as she entered and immediately recording devices blinked to life. A buzz now came from the people seated in tightly packed rows; all eyes seemed to be on her and her First Officer.

Rodriguez, Hayes, and Bullock stood near the front of the room. At her hesitation, Rodriguez motioned her forward, and walked up to the small podium decorated with a Starfleet Command insignia.

As she continued to make her way to the front, eyes from the crowd lingered on her, and they watched curiously, and their hands typed furiously on the small palm devices in their grasp. It was evident that Starfleet had summoned every news source available to them. Cameras from all over had come to hear about the _Great Voyage_.

The lump formed in her throat instantly.

“Good evening,” Rodriguez began. “I know you are all anxious to hear from our good Captain, and we will get to her shortly, but I first wanted to thank you all for coming tonight.” He looked over the cameras, taking his time to make contact with each lens. “As you can all imagine, we are all relieved to have Captain Janeway and her crew home safe after a very long, very successful journey. But please be advised that she won't be taking any questions.”

The room erupted in a chorus of protest until one voice was heard at the end.

“The public has a right to know what went on out there.”

Rodriguez smiled warmly, and Janeway could tell his mannerisms had altered since their discussion in the docking bay. He put up a hand and the crowd's intensity fell to a murmur.

“I understand your curiousness, but you have to understand that it has been a long day for the Captain.” He motioned for Janeway to come forward. “So without further ado, I present, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the USS Voyager.”

Applause erupted in room and Chakotay gave a small squeeze to her wrist as reassurance and retreated to the safety of the wall. She took a deep breath and moved to the podium.

A PADD was situated in front of her and she reached forward to run her palms over it.

“Good evening,” she began shakily. “I would like to repeat the words of Admiral Rodriguez and thank you all for coming.” She looked up quickly at the cameras and looked back down. Her hands shook at the podium, and she strained her eyes to see the words written in front of her. She inhaled deeply again, prayed the microphone had not picked up the nervousness in her voice.

She continued. “I want to thank Starfleet Command for their unshakable faith in my mission and their trust in me and my crew. Our trip to Sector 04-70 to retrieve the undercover Maquis vessel _Val Jean_...” She stopped, and quickly read over the remainder of the sentence. She looked up to Rodriguez who tilted his head, his brow furrowing with warning. “... to retrieve the undercover Maquis vessel _Val Jean_ was an unprecedented success.”

She quickly skimmed over the remainder of the speech. There was no mention of getting lost. No mention of the Caretaker's array. No mention of the Equinox, or the Borg. No mention of her once rebel-Maquis Captain, now First Commander. No mention of the Pathfinder Project or Reginald Barclay.

The seconds dripped by slowly; they ticked, pounded in her ears. The clicking of recording devices continued. Thumbs continued moving across palm devices tracking her every move and word.

She caught Rodriguez moving toward her from the corner of her eye and her hands calmed, flattening on the PADD at her fingertips. She cleared her throat and looked up, raising her chin to the cameras in front of her.

“I want to thank my crew for their hard work and dedication to this uniform, for their faith in me and my command team. They were a long seven years, but they made the journey an enjoyable one. I want them to know that they are my family.”

Rodriguez neared closer. His hands clasped in front of him.

“I want to thank Admiral Owen Paris and Lieutenant Reginald Barclay for their unwavering dedication and for keeping us safe out there. Your efforts and love for my crew have not gone unnoticed.”

She looked over to Chakotay who had removed himself from the wall and was moving toward her matching each move Rodriguez was making.

“I...,” she began.

Rodriguez pounced toward her, taking his opening. “Thank you, Captain.” He took her by the arm, squeezing tightly drawing her from the microphone. “Again, thank you for coming,” he said to the crowd. “Have a wonderful evening.”

A resounding boom resulted from the dismissal, and the crowd all stood shouting out questions in unison. Janeway released her arm, as Rodriguez directed her from the front of the room, Chakotay following closely behind him.

“Captain Janeway, can you tell us more about your relationship with the Commander?”

“Captain, is a Borg invasion imminent?”

=/\=

She found him outside, standing on a small balcony overlooking the city; its lights glowed and twinkled before them.

He turned as she approached. “You okay?” he asked. Worry gripped his words, and he reached out to place a hand to her shoulder.

“They came down hard, but it was nothing I haven't handled before.”

“You want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, looking down. She was seething with rage, and she turned her hands over, testing if they would give her away.

“I expect Starfleet to come down hard on the Equinox crew. On the Maquis.” She looked up at him slowly. “They gave me their word that you, B'Elanna, Seven, and Icheb would be left out of it.” She turned back to the city, and leaned forward against the balcony's railing. “But I honestly don't have much faith in their words anymore.”

“I'm sure they'd like to get their hands on me. Clean up the mess this created.”

She blinked slowly, and her head tilted up toward him. “You suspected this all along, didn't you?”

“That is Starfleet Command to me.” His brow furrowed. “A two-faced syndicate.”

She scoffed slightly. “And I'm soon to walk among them.”

He turned her around to face him. “Yes, but you'll be there to keep them in line. To clean up the injustice that plagues it.”

She smiled, and reached forward to take his hand. “I have to protect them,” she confessed. “Protect Seven. My Maquis.”

“Your Maquis?”

“Yes. Mine.” She lowered her head, and brought his hand up, pressing their palms together. Slowly, she entwined their fingers together. She watched a loving smile spread across his face. “I owe them that, Chakotay.” She released his hand. “Let's say we get out of here,” she suggested as she lifted herself on her toes to kiss him gently.

In the near distance, safely hidden behind a long, navy blue curtain, a recording device sprang to life.

=/\=

The accommodations Starfleet had given them were quaint but comfortable. Lines of stacked condominiums lined streets very close to the Academy's campus. The entire crew of Voyager were provided with rooms near one another with the Captain and Commander housed in opposing end units.

Janeway and Chakotay approached a white door with the number one on it and Janeway entered a code on a keypad. They stepped inside.

The room was an open concept; a small kitchenette, a sofa, a few chairs. She paced across the floor to behind a half wall where a modest-sized bed greeted her. The room was smaller than what she was used to on Voyager, but it would do.

“Home sweet, home,” she said as she turned to him.

“It is cozy,” he replied, his eyes looking up to the ceiling. He moved across the floor to meet her and looked around the room inquisitively. “But it's better than the accommodations I thought they would give a Maquis rebel.” He inhaled deeply. “I thought I'd be in handcuffs, locked in a cell.”

“I could make that happen, you know?” She raised an eyebrow and her lip curled upward. She reached forward wrapping her arms around him. “At least the handcuff part.”

He smiled and she could see the fatigue in his face. He was clearly drained from the day's events.

"Don't let them get to you, Chakotay." She ran her hands over his chest, placed a palm over his badge. “This is where you belong. Here. With me.” She moved her hands to the sides of his body. “You're staying, right? Here with me tonight.”

"If you want me to," he remarked sadly.

"Of course I want you to." The pain spread across her brow, and she leaned forward to place her head to his chest; the fabric scratchy against her cheek.

He placed a single palm to the small of her back. “Can we promise each other one thing?” he asked quietly.

“What's that?”

“To leave the protocol and regulations and Starfleet outside?” She pulled back from his chest and he immediately cupped her face. “That in here, it's just you and me?” He sighed. “Please don't let them ruin this. Ruin us.”

“They won't.” Her fingertips reached up to trace the lines of his tattoo. He closed his eyes. “I promise.”

She pulled at the zipper of his jacket lowering it, releasing him of its confines. She could see the weight fall from his shoulders as she lowered the jacket to the floor. She could see the pain in his face start to diminish. Piece by piece each article of their clothing began to pool at their feet until their hands could move smoothly, freely gliding over each other's skin; their forms outlined by the glow from the city flooding in from the window of her bedroom.

“I've never known the burden of that uniform for you until tonight,” she confessed. “I'm sorry for asking you to wear it. You won't have to anymore.”

He lowered his eyes to her body; his hands moved carefully over her back. "One day I'll tell you why. What I've seen. But not now.” He trailed his fingertips over the top of her shoulder. “Not with you like this in front of me."

"When you're ready then."

He leaned in to kiss her forehead. He pulled her in so their bodies touched. "I just want to hold you. Feel your skin against me."

He dipped his head and kissed her gently, parting her lips with his tongue as he pulled away.

She closed her eyes as a quiet sigh escaped her. “Let's go to bed.”

What they did not know as they lay bare in each other's arms, safe and unfolding within the comfort of each other's touch, is that he would wear the uniform again, and four pips would adorn his collar.

Because she would ask him to.

* * *

Coming Soon - Chapter 10: “Dust to Dust” - The Civil Wars


	10. Dust to Dust

_****_

“ _You've held your head up  
You've fought the fight  
You bear the scars  
You've done your time  
Listen to me  
You've been lonely, too long._

_Let me in the wall, you've built around  
And we can light a match and burn them down._

_And let me hold your hand and dance 'round and 'round the flames_

_In front of us_

_Dust to dust.”_

_\- John White and Joy Williams_

_****_

=/\=  
  


The morning sun began to creep through the bedroom's window, cascading down in yellows and pinks.

It was a different awakening than Janeway had grown accustomed to. She had become used to waking with the stars and darkness, and the ambient lighting that glowed simulating a rising sun. But this was refreshing and warm, and she turned, and was greeted with a warm body beside her.

Chakotay slept soundly, as if caught in a pleasant dream, and she watched him through slit eyes as she adjusted to the increasing brightness. He was peaceful and calm, and she welcomed the comfort that came with having someone beside her. He was a warm body to crawl into, a welcomed weight to encircle her, a gravity drawing her to his core.

She wished she could join him in his peacefulness. Safe from the thoughts that suddenly flooded her mind. Safe from the unknown, from the afflictions that awaited her.

So much of their future had yet to be determined.

They had told her Chakotay would be safe from a future in chains, that he would be more useful to them in Starfleet than out, and that Janeway could make use of him somewhere. But they refused to ensure the safety of the rest of the Maquis. B'Elanna would be protected. Her only saving grace was her connection to Admiral Paris; that it would not bode well for Starfleet to incarcerate a new mother, and the daughter-in-law of one of Starfleet's finest.

But the rest would be stripped of the rank Janeway had given them, and they would be confined, that their time would be spent on the inside of a cell.

She gripped her bare stomach under the sheets and pulled her legs up to her chest. She felt sick. How little Starfleet knew of their struggle. Of Ayala and Gerron and Chell and Dalby and Henley who exemplified the Starfleet code of conduct. Of Jarvin and and Smithee and Carlson who had trusted her so easily to get them home. Of Hogan and Bendera and Suder and many others who lost their lives protecting their crew mates. Who did so wearing Starfleet colors. They were more than members of her crew. They were her family. They had placed a trust in her and it was time she repay it.

But just how was she to protect them? Keep them safe from the internal system of their governing power, a power that refused to recognize them and their sacrifice. How was she to operate against a side of Starfleet she knew little about?

They had told her of their plans for the remaining Equinox crew. That they would be absolved and were to be released from Starfleet. How easily Starfleet intended to sweep away their assault on the Prime Directive. Trained Starfleet officers who violated their directive, who sacrificed an innocent entity for their own protection.

And even as she seethed with disgust, they formally offered her her promotion.

There was a rumbling coming from the Romulan Neutral Zone and she was to assume the position of Vice Admiral, and the control of the vast project which had already spanned decades. She was to keep an eye on the Romulan Star Empire and its resistance to the Federation, to complete essential reports on the current state of the Romulan Senate.

It was a hopeless case. And she was certainly the next pawn in the long line of Admirals that came before her. How quickly she realized this was merely just another calculated move in their game.

It was clear Starfleet needed a new face for the project. It was a fresh approach, they told her. And she was certain Starfleet found her engagement with the Borg a fine addition to her resume, that surely would not hinder the project's future success.

It was a lot to accept, and a lot of take in at this early hour. She begged her mind to give her peace.

She managed a quiet sigh as she rubbed her eyes, and she turned toward Chakotay's sleeping form which was begging her to seek refuge. She could reach out for him, and shut out the world and the voices inside her head that told her she was certain for failure, that hers was a hopeless case.

Chakotay stirred and his eyes opened slowly. "Hey," he said groggily, a warm smile spreading across his face.

She cleared her throat and turned within the sheets to face him. "Good morning," she replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. I was dreaming."

"And was it a good dream?"

"It was satisfactory." He inched beside her and his hand moved within the sheets to graze across her hip. His hands began to carefully move over her skin. "But this..." He reached to kiss her nose. "This is better."

She sighed. "I could get used to this."

Pulling back slightly, he looked down at her. "That's the plan, isn't it?"

She moved to curl her head beneath his chin and wrapped her arms around him for reassurance. "I woke up yesterday alone, in my bed on Voyager, and now..." She moved her hands across his back, rolling over thick muscles. His skin was warm and soft. "And now this."

Chakotay moved to rest on his back, folding one arm under his head, and she moved with him to curl her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, fingertips softly trailing her skin.

“I can't remember the last time someone held me like this,” she confessed.

He brought his hand to her head and started to run his fingers through her hair slowly. “That's a shame.” Fingertips found her earlobe and he gently traced its line.

“It was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not if I was to maintain that ship.” She draped one arm across his chest, played carefully with the skin at his side. “But I never believed I would actually be here.”

“Well that makes two of us.” He let his hand begin to trail along her neck. “I never thought you'd give me the chance to hold you.”

She sighed again, heavier this time, and pulled herself tightly against his body.

The tension was beginning to resonate along her shoulders, and she worried he could sense the weight she felt; could read it through his hands that moved carefully over her skin. He was the only thing she had left. The only thing she could tether to. What if something would take him from her? Take his hands from her body. Hands that seemed to know her; that lovingly seemed to heal as they enticed.

"Can you tell me what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" he asked, breaking the silence, touch carefully moving across her hairline.

She turned to look up at him. She placed a finger to the cleft in his chin. “Nothing gets by you.”

“Not when it comes to you.” He moved down to rest beside her, adjusting her in his arms, and continued to brush the hair from her face. “So what is it? How can I help?” The words affectionately fell from his lips as if he were saying, 'I love you'.

That was _her_ Chakotay.

He never once asked to be her savior. He always sought out what he could do to ease her burden, so they could tackle the unknown together. For theirs was a foundation built on trust, on words shared between them, never needing to be spoken.

“You can't help me,” she confessed. A look of sadness spread across her brow. “Not yet at least."

"Ok.” He blinked slowly and offered her a slight smile. “But you could always just tell me what you want to do and I'll try to talk you out of it. For old times sake?"

"And we'll do it my way anyways?"

"If memory serves me right, that's generally how it goes."

"But there's the problem.”

“What is?”

“I don't know _my_ way. For the first time in a long time."

"We have handled so many things before." He placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "Let me help."

"I'm sorry. I need to do this on my own."

From the way his eyes hardened and his lips pressed together, she could tell he was hurt. But he nodded, and he kissed her brow.

"All right." He lifted himself on his elbow, hovering close to her. A fingertip trailed across her collar bone. "But I'm here. When you need me. Always."

Her hands found his face and she pulled him down toward her. Finding his lips quickly, she kissed him heatedly, letting her hands move down his body to pull him against her. He braced against the bed.

She could feel him pressed against her leg, hard and aching, and she reached down to grip him firmly in her palm. She felt his lips overcome with a smile and their teeth clicked together. But his kiss eventually slowed, and he pulled from her lips and pressed his cheek against hers. He released a heavy breath.

“I'm going to have a _long_ , _hot_ shower,” she breathed softly against his ear, moving her hand along his shaft. “Care to join me?”

He groaned, and his hands moved down her body, to reach beneath her and cup her ass. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “As much as I am tempted, I have a prior engagement.”

“I'm sorry?” she asked, her voice deepening as she released her grip. “Engagement with what?” She inhaled. “With who?”

He smiled, flattered by her jealousy, and he shifted, placing himself back on his elbow, his palm to her flat stomach. “It's a surprise.”

“A surprise,” she repeated. Her eyes narrowed as she wore a quizzical look.

His smile widened, teeth showing. “Have your shower, and I will be finished by the time you get out.”

***

The hot water trailed her body, soothing tired muscles, rejuvenating her skin. She closed her eyes as she lowered her head, letting the water flood over her, drowning her hearing in its rush. She braced her hands, palms flat, against the tile in front of her, and let her mind wander, begging for freedom from her current thoughts, begging a dream to take her under.

There would be long roads lined with tall trees of various shades of green, between fields of golden wheat where the wind played. The old stone house from her youth with the battered, large oak tree in the front yard which refused to surrender to time and natural elements. Two Irish Setters would lie sleeping on a wooden porch weathered by the sun and the rain.

Another structure made of large wooden logs stood behind the house where one of its large doors remained open. Her hands smelled of dirt, of the earth, and her bare feet moved over the freshly cut soft grass, warm from the sun.

She crept into the darkened structure, begging her eyes to adjust to the dim environment. A few beams of sunlight shone from the windows high above. The thick figure of a man was before her and as she crept toward him, she reached out with a shaky hand. And as he turned –

The daydream vanished within a cloud, leaving her as quickly as it started. She opened her eyes.

She quickly washed, and turned off the water. Exiting the small, tiled stall, she draped a large towel around her body, and wrapped her hair tightly in another.

Chakotay's bag lay on the bed. Neat stacks of clothing lay beside the bag, no doubt retrieved from his unit on the far end of the row. She dressed quickly, pulling a robe from her own luggage that was delivered prior to their arrival.

It was when she turned the corner that the smell hit her senses. Her eyes opened wide to the familiar smell. She blinked slowly, and welcomed it like a long, lost friend.

His back to her, Chakotay was busy at the kitchenette preparing breakfast. But he sensed her immediately, and turned -- a vintage French Press with freshly made coffee in his hand.

“Is that--?” she began as she gingerly walked toward him, finger drawn, afraid to take her eyes off the press.

“Completely real. Completely fresh.” He placed two mugs down on the island that separated the kitchenette from the small dining area.

"How did you--?" She watched as he poured the dark liquid, as steam started to erupt from the cup.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. He took care of it for me."

She raised the cup and inhaled, wanting to wrap her body around it. She looked up as it hit her lips, met his eyes as he watched her attentively.

She let it roll down her throat slowly, lost in the pure heaven of its freshness. She took another sip. It was smooth and nutty, with hints of chocolate undertones, and held next to no bitterness or burnt flavor. Quickly, the many years of replicated coffee were erased from her memory.

"Good?"

She lowered the mug and reached for his shirt pulling him toward her. He obliged and accepted her kiss, placing a hand to her hip. His lips were salty, and she dipped her tongue between his teeth, carefully searching.

When she pulled from him, he licked his lips. “It is good,” he remarked, reaching to pour himself a cup.

He moved to the small stove against the wall where he had frying pans on lit burners, where a baking sheet sat with corn and red peppers carefully displayed. He lightly drizzled oil on top of them. She looked to the side where sliced, fresh avocado and radishes sat on a cutting board.

She gasped. “Are these your delectable breakfast tacos?”

“Correct.”

“You don't have to go through all this trouble.” She pointed to the wall adjacent the kitchenette, where an unfamiliar upgraded model sat within the wall. “We have a replicator.”

He turned toward her, and shook his head. “But it's our first day together.” He opened the oven and placed the baking sheet within it. He turned toward her, and reached out to place his two hands on her hips. “I want it to be special.”

“Ah,” she began. “About that.” She looked up slowly. “I was going to go see my mother and sister today.”

His lips pursed and he nodded. “I guess I'm on my own.”

“I'm sorry.”

He shook his head and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “They must be anxious to see you.”

“And I'll need to call Mark.” She sipped from her cup.

“Right.” He released his hands from her body. “I suppose you should. Dinner then?”

She nodded. “You're on.”

He turned to busy himself at the sink, looking out the window in front of him to the street.

She moved to the dining table to see a vast array of PADDs scattered over the surface. She was unfamiliar with some of their models and types, but she picked up two of them.

"What's all this?" she questioned.

He turned from washing his hands and grabbed a towel. “I had my friend drop off a few offers for plots of land just outside the city that are available, along with a few houses that might be of interest to us.”

She looked down at the PADDs in her hands.

When she was a little girl she never dreamed of settling down and resting in one place. At night she would look up at the sky, wondering which cluster of stars her father was closest to, and begged to join him. Her forever was command and Starfleet and ships flying with the stars.

She would ignore her friends when they spoke of their forevers. She found comfort in her books, and would rather dive into her studies, letting them take up all her spare time.

But as hard as she tried to ignore it, there were first loves and first tragic losses. There was vulnerability, and there was healing.

But then there was Mark. And there was an engagement that she fell into, because, maybe, it was something you did when you were heading on your first away mission. She had already risked her forever with Mark. And that was a failure.

But now there was Chakotay. There was devotion. There was trust. There was someone who knew her so deeply; the only person who could disarm her with a smile. And what she had worried about was true – he was miles ahead of her in his domestic dream, falling so easily within its grip.

And now there was risk involved. Now the fear of losing everything gripped her chest tightly, that she struggled to breathe.

She looked up at him, and his face fell into despair.

“What?”

“That's moving a bit quick, isn't it?” she questioned. “We've just started out.”

“Is it?” he scoffed, and moved to her side. “Hasn't it been seven years?”

She was motionless.

He reached forward and began to place the PADDs into a pile. “Sorry,” he confessed. “I just thought you'd want something bigger than this.” His hands moved about, motioning around the confined quarters.

She had hurt him again, she knew it. For the second time that day, she had broken the walls protecting his happiness, dragging him with her into her gloom, her fear of forever. She could not let herself do this to him. Especially now, when she needed him the most.

Her shoulders softened and she reached over to run a hand across his back. “No, I'm sorry. It's a nice thought. But you need to let me catch up to you.”

He nodded sadly. “I understand. I'll return them.”

“No,” she said, and she held his hand still. “Chakotay, leave them. I will take a look.”

Her eyes looked up to see a PADD, familiar with her aboard Voyager. She moved her hand toward it. “And this one?”

He frantically took it from her grip, and turned the PADD off as she attempted to look. "Nothing. Just a work in progress.”

“I take it I can't see it?”

“No. It's not ready yet." And off her desperate look. "They may or may not be plans for our first date."

Her expression changed to pleasant surprise and she noticed another PADD on the table. “And this?” She pointed. “Another part of your plan?”

He sighed and picked it up, holding it against his chest. He looked down at the image that flashed for him. “My friend dropped this off too. Something that is making the headlines today.”

As worry spread to her face, he turned the PADD and gave it to her. She looked down as the images flashed across the screen on an endless loop, creating a perfect video.

There they were, on a balcony drenched in soft moonlight, held to each other in a loving embrace. The Captain of the once lost USS Voyager, on her tip toes, lips locked in an intimate kiss with her First Officer.

STARFLEET SCANDAL: FAIRYTALE ENDING FOR STAR-CROSSED LOVERS, read the headline.

He edged to stand beside her and tilted the PADD in her hands to direct the images toward him. His hand found her lower back, his lips her temple. “Well, at least they captured my good side.”

=/\=

She held her breath as she inputted the ten digit interface code on the computer in front of her. The number engrained in her memory, flooded through her onto the keypad at her fingertips. The screen flashed and she exhaled while the dial began.

It was quicker than she remembered, and as the final push of breath escaped her lips, Mark Johnson's face flashed before her.

His eyes were wide. His smile, small and thin lipped. He blinked and tilted his head toward the monitor in front of him.

"I was wondering when you might call," he said. The familiar voice resonated in her ears, struck her core with familiarity, erasing many years of longing.

"Here I am," she returned, raising her eyebrow. "Calling."

"There you are."

His hair was whiter than she remembered, and thick facial hair now graced his face, a flecked salt and pepper. He leaned back in his chair, studying the image she presented to him. She suddenly felt exposed. Was he taking her in? What was he thinking? Was she the image he envisioned when he closed his eyes?

If he had even thought about her still.

"You okay?" she asked, choking out the words.

"I am," he lowered his eyes, played with something in his hands. "It's miraculous to see you." He looked up, eyes brimming. "Like seeing…"

"A ghost?"

“I was going to say a long lost, friend.” He took a deep breath pausing, and leaned forward his elbows on the desk in front of him. "You look good, Kath."

"Liar."

He flashed a familiar playful smile, and instantly 70,000 light-years did not feel so far. Seven years did not feel like a vast journey.

"I'm serious,” he continued, lowering his voice playfully. "You sure you were lost out there?"

"You need to have your monitor cleaned." She looked down, played with a fingernail. "Trust me, the years have not been kind."

He paused. His face grew serious, the playfulness leaving his face instantly. His voice deepened. "How are _you_ doing?"

"I'm getting my bearings." She smiled, opened her mouth, but no words emerged.

“What?” he urged.

"It's funny.” She took a sharp inhale. “I thought I was lost before. Truth is, I'm more lost now." She looked up and his face softened. "I could use an old friend," she confessed.

He sighed. "Come for dinner, Kath. We can talk. Mollie misses you."

Dinner. Toasting her return over wine, with the life she could have had. Their perfect family. His wife. His kids.The boys chasing Mollie in the backyard of their suburban home. A wife to cook him dinner and give him his lineage. A family surrounded by perfect happiness.

It was something she could not give him.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she said finally.

"All right. But my offer stands." He smiled genuinely. Reached forward to place his hands on either side of the monitor, as if he was reaching out for her. It was the closest she had been to him since she said goodbye and left for Deep Space Nine. "It's good to see you."

She reached forward returning the gesture. Placing her hands on either side of the camera. Her voice lowered, and in a whisper she said, "You too."

The screen blipped and the tone ended. The room fell into an eerie silence no longer humming with their conversation. Janeway ran her hands over her face and sat back in her chair.

Chakotay poked his head around the corner into the bedroom, no doubt aware of the new silence in the room.

“Ah,” she said. “The eavesdropper.”

“In fact, I was not.” He approached her, and leaned against the small desk she sat at. “Correction: I only heard the last bit.”

“The good to see you?”

“The invitation to dinner.”

Jealously began to creep into Chakotay's features, and she smiled.

“I'd be happy to be your plus-one,” he told her. “You know, just in case.”

“Just in case I fall back into his loving embrace.”

“That's not what I mean. I meant if it would make it easier on you.”

“Ah, you mean seeing the life I would have had.”

Chakotay offered no reply.

“I'll be fine.” She stood up from her chair and he immediately took her hands. “I spent years with this man. I don't need a chaperone.”

=/\=

The shuttle pulled to a gentle stop outside the long, pebbled lane leading up to the old stone house. Janeway lifted the hatch door open and stepped out. The engines quietly hummed as the shuttle engaged its thrusters, leaving her behind in a light dust.

The sun was hot, the air stifled, and she was happy she had selected a light, cream colored cotton button up, and a light flowing pant for the occasion.

Her mother's house, once her grandfather's, stood on the several acred property, just outside the city limits of Bloomington, Indiana, far enough away from the hovering of shuttles, the bustle of crowds. The air was fresh and the wheat was getting tall, anxiously waiting to be harvested.

It was not far up the lane when she decided to remove her thonged sandals and opt to walk in the freshly cut grass on the side of the lane. She took a second to stop and grip the ground with her toes. She closed her eyes and let the air fill her lungs.

There was the familiar creak of a screen door ahead of her, and light footsteps on a wooden porch.

“You cut your hair,” a voice called out.

Janeway put a hand up to shield her eyes as they narrowed. “Hi to you too, Mom.”

Gretchen Janeway dressed in a light purple tee and black capris pants, draped her towel over her shoulder and descended the steps. Reaching her daughter quickly, she took her in her arms. “Welcome home, Katie.”

Her mother squeezed her tightly and rocked her gently, placing a hand to the back of Janeway's head. When Janeway pulled back, Gretchen placed her palms to her daughter's face and smiled, tears falling from her eyes. “My Katie.”

“Hi Mom,” Janeway whispered.

There was a noticeable change to her mother's face. Gone was the smoothness Janeway remembered, now replaced with time and wisdom. Janeway focused on a few lines at the side of her mother's eyes and wondered how many of these were her fault.

How many were created from her anxiety, from her sadness. From the heartache of losing a daughter, and a part of herself. How she wished she could erase them, steal them back from time. Erase the pain of her decision to fly amongst the stars and head to the unknown out of her mother's control, just like her father had done before her.

She kissed her mother's cheek and pulled her into her arms again. She was thin and Janeway could feel the bones of her shoulder blades as she wrapped her arms around her.

“I knew you'd come home,” a voice called out behind her mother. Janeway looked up to see her sister, Phoebe, emerging from the house. She wore a simple long, loose flowing, grey dress with thin straps. No shoes were on her feet. Her hands were dark from being in the dirt.

“What?” Janeway said, leaving her mother's embrace. “Did you see it in your magic crystals?”

Phoebe Janeway stopped short in front of her. Her grey eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin. “They don't work like that.” She smiled shaking her head and took her Janeway in her arms emphatically. “But I knew. I just knew.”

Phoebe pulled back and her hands moved to her sister's hair. She played with a few ends between her fingertips. “Mom's right. Why would you cut your hair?”

“It's easier to manage.” She playfully pushed her sister's hand away. “Besides I didn't exactly have the luxury of a hairdresser in the Delta Quadrant.”

***

The sisters were seated at an island in the middle of the large farm kitchen, talking over coffee, watching their mother putter to and fro preparing the night's dinner. Fresh herbs hung from strings by the window. The house smelt like sage and rosemary.

Their old family tabby cat lay in the midday's sun streaming in from the large bay windows at the front of the house. Occasionally, she would look up at Janeway, with her one good eye, examining her suspiciously.

“What does Starfleet want to do with you now?” her mother asked refilling her coffee cup.

“They want to give me Vice Admiral.”

“Oh!” her mother exclaimed, relieved with the news. “How wonderful! Your father would be so proud of you, Katie.”

“It's a desk job, Mom,” Janeway returned flatly.

Phoebe looked up at her, clearly knowing from her tone that Janeway was not thrilled by the promotion. Her grey eyes shone brightly, she pressed her lips tightly together, giving her a slight wink. It was clear, Phoebe was to revisit this news at a later time.

Gretchen turned towards the kitchen sink. “I don't know. A little time on solid ground might do you some good.”

“If you say so.”

Gretchen pulled the towel from her shoulder and dried her hands. “I wish you would please consider settling down, Katie.” She turned to playfully glare at Phoebe. “I'm still waiting for my grandbabies."

“Don't look at me!” Phoebe's hands came up in front of her. “I was close to your vision of a domestic life. You remember Trevor.”

“Mom, please.” Janeway interjected. She sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes

“Trevor!” Her mother continued. “We were all lucky that didn't pan out.” Gretchen braced herself against the island, palms down, and Janeway smiled seeing the familiar stance.

“And Kylie,” Gretchen continued, tilting her head toward Phoebe. “She ran for the hills."

“Wait. Who's Trevor?” Janeway asked.

“My former lover.”

Gretchen scoffed. “An idiot,” she murmured under her breath.

"And Kylie?" Janeway questioned.

"Ah, well.” Phoebe smiled and offered her sister a slight wink. “She was merely an infatuation."

"I expect the juicy details later," Janeway mumbled just loud enough for her sister to hear.

Gretchen sighed, and she motioned toward Janeway. “Come, help with the chopping.”

Janeway obliged, standing, adjusting her shirt, and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

“Have you talked to Mark?” Gretchen asked, lifting a full chicken into a medium-sized pan.

Janeway took the towel from her mother's shoulder. “I did. I talked to him this morning.”

“And how is he doing?”

“He is fine, Mom.” She replaced the towel back on her mother's shoulder.

Gretchen moved to the sink. “I've always liked Mark.”

Janeway remained tight-lipped and she turned to her sister, who shrugged.

Phoebe leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm.“What's going on with your First Officer? What's his name?”

“Chakotay.”

“Right. What's going on? Spill the beans, Kat.”

Her mother scoffed. “Let's hope this one sticks.”

“It's... “ Janeway began, as she picked up a peeled carrot to slice, but she was lost for words. How could she sum up what he meant to her? How he had been steadfast, and constant through the years. How she could not have done it without him. How he was an integral part of her life now. How his hands felt on her body.

How she was his Warrior Woman.

“No, no, not like that!” Gretchen hollered out pulling the knife from Janeway's hands. She sighed clearly frustrated. “They can teach you how to fly a space craft armed with torpedoes, but they can't teach you how to properly chop a carrot?”

“We had replicators, Mom.”

“Replicators," she scoffed. "Cuisine is a lost art. Fastest way to get to your father's heart was my cooking.” She took the carrot from her daughter and began to make perfectly aligned cuts. “But we'll fix you up. Yes, we will.” Gretchen left the carrot and went back to prepping the chicken. She continued mumbling to herself. “Send her to the Badlands. She can't even cook.”

Leaving her mother to brood, Janeway took the moment to steal away, and climbed the creaky stairs to the upstairs rooms. She edged down the hall and squeezed into the second room on the right. The door softly creaked as she opened it.

Trophies lined small shelves in front of her above a large wooden desk. They sat neatly organized, exactly as she had placed them, not gathering dust as her mother had clearly cleaned recently.

She pulled out the desk's drawer and started emptying its contents onto the desk. When the drawer was empty, she reached within and looped a finger in a small hole and pulled the false bottom from its place. Inside, a dried rose and an old leather-bound diary sat there. She picked them up and began flipping through the pages of the book. She moved to take a seat on her old bed.

There was a slight knock on the door and it creaked louder as Phoebe opened it fully. Her sister crossed her arms leaning against the door frame. “You know, the anger spells are becoming more frequent. I think her mind is starting to go.”

“You think so?”

“She forgets simple things all the time now.” Her sister looked down at her feet. “I think some days it worked in her favor. She could forget you were gone. But then she would remember. And I'd know because she'd get real quiet. And that's when I would find her in here. Cleaning. Like part of her still thought you would come home to it. Even after the memorial.”

“I'm sorry, Phoebe. It must have been hard.”

“Yeah.” She moved to take a seat on the bed beside her. “But you're home now.”

Janeway looked down at her hands, and spread them across a page where she had written about Mark. About days they would have together, running through the farm fields. Getting lost with each other in the tall wheat.

“You wanna talk about it?” Phoebe asked. “About what's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?”

Janeway faked a smile. She looked up at her sister with tears in her eyes. “I'm lost, Pheebs. And I don't know what to do.”

“With Starfleet?”

“With everything.”

“Chakotay...” Phoebe trailed. “It's serious, isn't it? You're in love with him?”

“Yeah...” Janeway relished in the immediate relief of her admission. “I have been for a long time now. Perhaps even before Mark let me go.” There was spite in her voice and her sister picked up on it.

“You can't blame him, Kat.”

“I don't.” She closed the book placing it beside her on the bed and brought her hands to her face. “It's just... I've been doing a lot of grieving lately.” She turned to Phoebe, her voice was barely audible. “I thought I was going to die out there.”

Phoebe watched her sister's lips pull into a pout, and her chin wrinkled. She pulled her into her arms and hugged her. “But you didn't. You're here now.” She ran her hand over the back of Janeway's hair soothing her. “And you have a fresh start?”

“I don't know about that.”

Phoebe wiped a few tears from Janeway's face as she soothed. “The way I see it, your path is pretty clear. Starfleet and this hunk of man on your arm.”

“It's not that easy.”

“And why not?”

“Starfleet isn't what they make it out to be.”

“So make it the way it should be.”

“You sound like dad.”

“Good! One of us has to be.” Phoebe pulled back and Janeway straightened. “You have always been Starfleet, Kat. You've always been good at it. You were always the one to follow in dad's footsteps.”

“I was foolish then. I didn't know what it really entailed. The lies and deceit.”

“I think you're making excuses. Because you're afraid.”

Janeway's eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?!”

“For the first time in your life, you're afraid to take a chance. For the first time in your life it isn't easy.”

Janeway scoffed. “Oh that's ripe.”

Phoebe took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “Your childhood was easy. School was easy. Starfleet was easy. Mark was easy.” She tilted her head. “And now Starfleet isn't easy. Real love isn't easy. Life isn't easy. And you think you're lost because it isn't easy.”

More tears rolled down Janeway's cheeks. “No part of the last seven years was easy.”

Phoebe ignored her and continued. “And you've grown. It shows. You're more vulnerable now. You're heart is more vulnerable. But you're ready to live. Take life by the figurative balls and run.” Phoebe smiled. “So run, Kat. Run.”

“But I'm lost, Pheebs.”

“No, you're not lost. It just sounds to me like you've just been lonely for too long.” She lifted her hand and pulled a few stray strands of hair from Janeway's face. “And maybe Chakotay has been too. And maybe all you need is each other. Sounds to me like that will be enough.”

“I don't know.”

“Did you ask him?”

“I can't.”

“Because you'd seem vulnerable.” She nodded. “Not everything is a meticulous, calculated move. Sometimes you have to lead with your heart.” She watched Janeway shake her head, covering her face with her hands again. “Look.” She took her sister's hands from her face. “I've had my share of failures, and to me, it sounds like this Chakotay is worth the risk.”

Janeway's brow furrowed. “Do you always have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you're seeing right through me. Reading me like a book.”

“It's because I know you so well.” She sighed. “I just can't see why you can't have it all.” She ran a hand down Janeway's arm. “What's with the sudden doubt? For as long as I've known you, you have never second guessed yourself.”

Janeway shook her head and looked down at her hands. “Maybe it's like you said, because it's not easy. And I'm afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

_Of losing him._

She begged the words to come from her mouth, but they refused, and her lips remained sealed. Tears escaped her again, and Phoebe reassured her with the touch to her arm. She nodded and wiped her sister's face.

Janeway could tell she did not need to say it; her sister already knew her truth.

“I think you just need to take some time on your own. Get your thoughts together. But trust yourself. Your problem isn't as hard as you make it out to be.”

“It's not?”

Phoebe wrapped an arm around Janeway's shoulders and drew her closely to her again. “You're in love, Kat. Plain and simple. And I think he has affected you more than you care to admit.”

A noise came from the kitchen, pots crashing and their mother cursing.

“Come on,” Phoebe said lifting from the bed. “We better go help Mom.”

Janeway stood hand when she reached the door, her sister turned and held her by the shoulders.

“Admiral Janeway,” Phoebe said proudly. “You were always going to be the one to carry the torch for this family, Kat.” She smiled warmly. “And Mom's right -- Dad would have been so damn proud.”

=/\=

It was well past eleven when Janeway left her sister and her mother seated outside by a fire, and called for a shuttle to take her into the city to be teleported to Starfleet Headquarters. Transportation was easier at this hour, most travelers home and nestled in their beds.

She arrived at Starfleet Headquarters seconds later, emerging from the teleportation gateway. Now close to nine o'clock, only a few stars managed to work their way through the bright lights of the city.

She walked down the long street of tightly packed units, stopping short just as she crossed a small garden. She looked up at the end-unit. All but one window were dark.

She hesitated slightly, and then continued to walk to her unit. When she reached it, she entered the numbers on the keypad and the door opened for her.

“Lights,” she commanded and immediately the room's ambient lighting glowed in soft white.

She sighed, and walked toward the dinning area.

Long stemmed pink roses sat in fresh water in a vase in the center of a table, where white tapered candles had been burning on either side of them.

A single meal sat covered and she lifted it, seeing the dinner he had prepared for them.

A PADD sat beside the bouquet and she picked it up, and turned it on. She scrolled through the pages of plans until she saw the final schematic -- a boat for their first date.

She smiled sadly, heart broken that she had deprived him of this moment.

There was a soft, knock at the door and she turned, PADD in hand. With her head lowered, she reached to open the door. Her eyes slowly raised. She expected to see anger in his face, but concern was the only emotion he showed.

There he was. Even now as she seemingly pushed him away, when they were on the verge of being even closer, he was still there, supporting her, ever faithfully.

How did she get so lucky?

"Forgive me," she pleaded softly. “I ruined your evening.”

He covered whatever hurt he had with a slight smile. "It's fine.” He waved her off. "You can just reheat it."

She moved aside so he could enter. “These plans, Chakotay...”

“What do you think?”

“I think it's lovely. I can't wait.” She scrolled through a few more pages of his plan.

“I've been thinking about that boat since we left New Earth,” he confessed.

She raised her eyes slowly. “Me too.”

Chakotay inhaled deeply, dimples graced his cheeks. "How is your mom? Your sister?” he asked genuinely.

"Good," Janeway placed the PADD down at the kitchenette and walked toward him. "My mother welcomed her prodigal daughter back with open arms, then continued to give me a life lesson over dinner."

"That's good," he remarked. "Did a cooking lesson accompany the meal?"

She playfully slapped his arm. "Funny."

"It's not a joke." He mumbled avoiding her sideways playful glare.

She placed her palms on his chest. His hands found her hips. "So you know, my sister approves of you."

He smiled. "I like her already.” He bent forward, kissed her cheek. “Did you want me to stay tonight?”

“No,” she stopped herself short. “Yes.” She pulled herself into his arms, placed her cheek to his chest. “I'm sorry. I'm a mess right now. I think I need some time alone,"

“Okay,” her brought a hand to the back of her hair. “But remember you promised you weren't going anywhere.”

She pulled back and wrapped her arms around him. She met his eyes. “I'll be here. Always.” she repeated, back to him. “I just need to sort out the mess that is my head right now.”

He released her body, taking her face in his hands. “Kathryn Janeway, you are the strongest, determined, strong-willed, intelligent...” He paused smiling. “...beautiful woman I have ever known.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're stronger than you think you are.”

“I don't feel it. Not now.”

“Then you'll just have to trust me,” he continued. “Like you have done so many times before.”

He kissed her softly, lips warm and sweet. And when his hands left her face, he turned to the door, opening it, and headed out into the night.

She edged out after him, onto the small step and looked up at the sky, eyes scanning, searching for the right star to wish upon.

Regardless of how Starfleet felt about an Admiral and an ex-Maquis together, she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in beautiful sin with him. She wanted to run to him now, tell him to come back inside so she could crawl in his safety, and let the stars and moonlight drape across their skin.

She watched as he made it to the end of the path, and turned to look at her.

Even after all these years, she was still amazed with how he looked at her; like she was the only one in the world that existed. That the rest of the world could fade away into nothingness and he would be satisfied, as long as she was with him.

And she would be happy too, if the only thing that remained was the way his eyes softened when he saw her.

"You know,” she called out to him. “I wish I could be the way you see me"

"Oh, darling.” His teeth shone bright in the darkness. “You are.”

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 11 - "Castle" - Halsey


	11. All Rise

****

" _Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise  
Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised  
Now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it  
Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it_

_I'm headed straight for the castle  
They wanna make me their queen  
And there's an old man sitting on the throne  
That's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean  
I'm headed straight for the castle  
They've got the kingdom locked up  
And there's an old man sitting on the throne  
That's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut  
Straight for the castle_

_Oh, all these minutes passing, sick of feeling used  
If you wanna break these walls down, you're gonna get bruised  
Now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it  
Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it_

_I'm headed straight for the castle."_

_\- Ashley Frangipane and Peder Losnegard_

_****_

=/\=

_Her breath is heavy. Her body is sticky and heated. Their transport has yet to engage their engines, has yet to depart from their dock at Starbase 234, and she lay raw and spent on her fiancé in the tight confines of their small bunk._

" _Kath, that was...," he trails. His breath matches her own. Sweat pulses from his brow. "Something tells me you missed me." His fingernails move down her back, hand in her hair._

" _Desperately." She kisses his chest. Her hands tremble down his body. "This might be the last quiet moment we get together."_

" _Why do you say that?" His voice full of worry. His hands grow quiet on her skin._

" _I had a talk with Patterson recently. I haven't told you. It sounds like Starfleet is about to give me my own ship. Promote me to Captain."_

" _You're kidding!" He pulls her in tightly. A kiss to the top of her head. "That's wonderful, Kath!"_

_She rolls from his body, rests her hands behind her head. "My own ship. Hard to believe."_

" _You'll be out there in no time. Soon they'll be saying your name alongside Pike and Kirk and Picard."_

_She chuckles. "Oh, I doubt it. You should see this ship. She is a tiny thing. Hopefully there are some upgrades before I take the helm."_

_He turns on his side. "I'm so proud of you. What will they want you to do?"_

" _I'm not sure." Her eyes close. She inhales. "The Romulans are a hopeless cause and they would reserve the Galaxy-class ships for that. The Cardassians seem to be settled."_

" _Aren't they at war with the Marquis?"_

" _Maquis." She laughs. "And that should be cleaned up soon. Starfleet headquarters doesn't seem too worried about them."_

" _No? That's not what I read recently."_

" _Oh? You know more than Starfleet Command?"_

" _I'm just saying that you shouldn't undermine a few villagers simply because they are armed with torches."_

" _With what?"_

" _You shouldn't underestimate these Maquis. With their back against the wall, ready to defend what they have worked for, who knows how far this will go."_

_She scoffs. "They are outlaws, Mark. A bunch of ungrateful colonists that should return home."_

" _But don't you think they deserve that land? Haven't some of them been there for several decades working it with their own hands?"_

" _They were given it by the Federation. It's Federation land. They should return home and they will be safe there."_

" _Kath, that is their home."_

" _They are nothing but a bunch of terrorists who took the law into their own hands because they are disgruntled over a fair treaty. Many of them abandoned their duty and honor. They spit on the uniform I wear proudly. A uniform that I have worked my ass off for."_

_He lets a finger trail between her breasts reaching her flat stomach. "Well you're very much out of it now."_

" _And?"_

" _And put yourself in their shoes for a change."_

" _I have. They should stop this pettiness and accept their fate. It's over. Move on."_

" _You wouldn't understand. You grew up with Federation protection."_

" _I beg your pardon."_

" _You haven't known what it is like to face that kind of adversity. The Federation will always protect your home world."_

_She shook her head. "I didn't want to fight. This might be my last time in a long time for any sort of vacation."_

" _Then let's not argue." He leans forward, takes her nipple into his mouth, pressing himself against her leg. His tongue trails the curve of her breast. "How long until we get to this Terra Setter Prime?"_

_She laughs. "Taris Setti IV." She lifts herself and rolls, straddling him, careful not to hit her head on the empty bunk above her. "Oh, at least two more rounds."_

=/\=

The last of the night's stars were still bright when Janeway's feet touched the floor. She raised her hand to open the window above her bed, letting the fresh air roll in in waves, and she listened.

The street was silent below. The birds had yet to begin their day's chorus of song, and the first of the day's shuttles had yet to begin to engage their engines. No one walked on the pathway outside her unit; students still nestled in their beds, drained from a long night of studying and socializing.

She heaved her tired body from her bed and moved with heavy feet to her bathroom.

"Lights," she commanded and the bathroom illuminated, her eyes instantly closing from the brightness.

She braced her hands against the sink in front of her, and blinked repeatedly, looking up at her reflection. She ran her fingers under puffy eyes, hands down her exhausted features.

This was going to be a long day.

Her shower lasted longer than she had originally intended. She allowed the cloud from the steam of the water to engulf her. She begged for a daydream, but none came. There was no relief.

Droplets of water still clung to her skin when she wrapped herself in her robe, pushed her feet into slippers, and treaded across the floor to begin her day.

She boiled water, placed fresh grounds in the French Press gifted to her by Chakotay, and looked out the window in front of the sink.

A few young cadets had risen. Arms wrapped around each other's shoulder, they walked laughing, playfully pushing one another. They were no doubt eager for the approaching summer break, which signaled the end of classes, and Commencement that was to take place in a few day's time.

Completely wrapped in each other's arms, a young couple walked awkwardly following the group in front of them, maintaining a short distance. He bent to kiss her head, and sorrow spread across her face; the summer break clearly more difficult on some than others.

Janeway turned to the reservoir as it finished heating, and dispensed scalding water into the press. She stood back and watched as the granules swirled, as the liquid changed to a dark brown. She smiled, impressed with her small initiative.

"You see?" she called to the replicator on the wall that sat anxiously waiting, blinking slowly. "It isn't all about you."

She lowered the plunger, dispensed the coffee into a white mug, and curled up on the small couch adjacent the dining area. A small table was to her right and she placed her mug down after another sip, picking up a PADD she had left there the previous night.

She scrolled through the pages of her report, refreshing her mind on what she had presented to Starfleet. Of the Caretaker's Array, the Kazon. Of new entities, new races. The Ocampans and Kes. The Talaxians and Neelix. Of the Borg. Of the Equinox and Captain Ransom. Of the Maquis. Her crew.

She turned it over in her hands and discarded it beside her, instead reaching for the PADDs Chakotay had left her. Of houses and plots of land. Of their future together.

She scrolled through the first one; a modest three bedroom, two bath, fenced yard with deck, just outside the city. As she moved through the pictures, watched the virtual tour, she smiled envisioning early mornings with rushed kisses over coffee as they embarked on their own for the day. To lazy weekend afternoons curled on the couch together, reading, wrapped in each other's arms. To late nights talking in bed. To kisses and hot showers.

To evenings outside, looking up at the stars, reminiscing about times they shared exploring, paving a way through the galaxy.

It had been a week since she had felt his hands on her skin. A week since his kiss graced her lips, felt the comfort of his embrace.

But that was to change in a few hours. Soon she could see his face again. Feel the relief of his eyes on her. Feel his smile diminishing the long nights of the last few days.

At 0900 he would be debriefed by Starfleet accounting for his actions with the Maquis, his time aboard Voyager, his interactions with his Captain. He was to prove himself, and justify the Federation's decision to exonerate him.

And she was going to be there. To fulfill her promise. To return him safely to her arms again.

=/\=

Toothbrush in hand, Janeway hurried across her bedroom to reach her computer and opened it. The buzzing ceased as she pressed a key on the keyboard. The Federation insignia flashed and the face of Admiral Paris unfolded on her screen.

She swallowed, and wiped the towel at her shoulder across her lips. "Admiral," she greeted him enthusiastically.

"You know, Kathryn, you're soon going to have to drop these formalities with me. Call me 'Owen'."

"That will take some getting used to." She smiled nervously. "Will I be seeing you today?"

"I will see you at Chakotay's debriefing, as discussed. I'll be beaming down soon."

"Then why do I deserve this honor?" she smiled.

"It's your former ship, Captain. We can't seem to get the warp drive online." His hands ran through his hair, and frustrated fingers pulled at follicles. "I'd ask B'Elanna but Tom was quite adamant the last we talked not to disturb her. Miral seems to be having trouble sleeping. I've been sifting through Voyager's engineering databanks, but-"

"That's quite all right, Admiral. I can send the workaround to your engineers. Tell them to send me the summary of their issue."

"Thank you, Kathryn." Relief graced his features. "We appreciate it. But tell me, has this ship always been this finicky?" He leaned back in his chair, and Janeway could see he was sitting in her former Ready Room. A light pain hit her chest.

Janeway thought. "No. Voyager has always been a most loyal vessel. Much like her crew."

He smiled. "It's funny. It's been problem after problem with this ship since the moment you left it." He paused, pushing his chin toward her. "It seems as if ..."

"As if what?" she asked.

"As if she misses you."

=/\=

With the final pip perfectly in place, Janeway moved back to see her reflection in the full length mirror in her bedroom.

She pressed her hands over the front of her new uniform of grey shoulders and black jacket, an undershirt of deep red. She appreciated the upgraded uniform, liked the way it fit across her shoulders, enjoyed how it lined her body, and the way it sat at her hips. She fidgeted with a loose piece of hair, pushed it back into place behind her ear.

"Well Captain," she said to her reflection as she raised an eyebrow. "You sure do clean up nice."

She padded the inside pocket of her coat with her hand, and her eyes widened. She moved quickly to her bag, searching, feeling within the dark bottom of the bag. Her hand moved to one corner where she felt a familiar weight and she lifted it out by its long silver chain – the impeccable replica of Captain Cray's pocket watch. She unzipped her jacket and placed it safely within the small pocket she had created for it.

She grabbed her PADD from the couch, and moved toward the door, opening it.

She had almost taken a step before she realized a gift had been placed at her doorstep. She looked down at the small brown box and picked it up, returning inside. She placed the box on the kitchen island and opened the cover.

Inside, wrapped carefully in a purple silk scarf, lie her copy of Dante's _The Divine Comedy_. She picked the book up and smiled, seeing that below the book lay the compass she had recently gifted Chakotay.

She flipped through the pages of the book quickly seeing that a marker had been placed within Dante's Purgatory, Canto XVI.

A quote had been singled out, a note strategically underlining it. She picked up the small piece of pager and read: _I thought you might need this more than me. - C xo_

Janeway looked down at the page. "If the present world go astray, the cause is in you, in you it is to be sought," she read aloud.

She picked up the compass, placing it in her palm and watched the needle spin. Drawn by the Earth's magnetic field, the directional device worked perfectly now. The needle carefully came to a stop, pointed her in the direction of the walkway in front of her, and she accepted.

She took a deep breath and slowly placed it in her pant pocket.

It was time.

=/\=

Janeway entered the large windowless room at Starfleet Command ahead of schedule and was directed to her seat along the side wall.

To her right, an array of Starfleet Command personnel sat in a perfect line on a small platform at the front of the room, including Fleet Admiral Damien Rodriguez. To his left sat Admiral Bullock, and to his right, Admiral Hayes. The insignia of the Federation of Planets hung high behind them on the wall. The flag of Starfleet Command sat at attention to the table's right. She took a deep breath and sat.

The cold black eyes of Rodriguez met her. His lips tight, he smiled at her.

The large metal doors of the room opened a few moments later and Chakotay entered. He wore a plain navy blue suit and white collared shirt.

Gone were his Starfleet reds in this official setting, and she had to blink twice to recognize him, realizing how much she had grown accustomed to his Starfleet attire. He looked to the side of the room as he sat, making eye contact with her, and she straightened her jacket. He nodded approvingly at her attire, and his eyes held hers for a moment. He offered a tight smile.

At exactly 0900 Rodriguez cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Welcome. I must say I am a bit shocked to see you out of uniform, Sir."

"I'm afraid it doesn't quite fit anymore... _Sir_ ," Chakotay returned.

Rodriguez smiled. "I see. Well I trust you understand why you are here today, Mr. Chakotay."

"I do."

"To offer us some guidance on your involvement with the Maquis, and why Captain Janeway here would put her career on the line for a wanted criminal."

"It's true, I've been labelled as such by the Federation."

"Might I remind you that you are standing on Federation soil, Sir."

Chakotay was silent. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands neatly on his lap.

"Please, indulge us," Rodriguez prompted.

"I was born and raised on the colonist planet, Trebus, living off the fruits and the labors gifted to me by my ancestors. They worked the soil themselves, took the hazards of the harsh climate with little complaint and did what they could to overcome it. I remember there were long winters, and hot summers, but my people made the planet their own.

"Growing up I did not understand the sacrifice my people had endured. I wanted technology and advancement. I wanted ease. I did not understand why they would endure those hardships when we came from Earth. I wanted to break free.

"I found Starfleet at the age of 15, and left my home world to uphold the ideals of an unknown Federation that had next to no involvement with my ancestors on Trebus even though the planet fell within the boundaries of Federation space.

"In 2368, at the request of my father I returned to my home planet for the first time since I was a young boy. He spoke of an uprising and it was the first time I saw the trauma of my people first hand. The Cardassians were beginning to make a presence in our territory. I was taken in by the beauty of Trebus, the beauty of my people, and there was only one way I was to cure my broken heart. I respectfully resigned from my position with Starfleet and returned to Trebus to be with my own people.

"In the spring of 2370, shortly after the Federation-Cardassian treaty had come to pass, the Cardassians began to invade the borders of our territory. Farmers and spiritual men were now combatted with guns and pulled into the streets to be beaten to death. They claimed the land as their own and would destroy everyone in their way.

"A friend of my father's had a daughter who was my age, named Ahyoka. While growing up, I had once or twice envisioned taking her to Earth with me, when I was a young naive boy. She had grown into a beautiful woman and upon my departure at 15, had eventually settled with another young tribesman named Sakima. They had two beautiful daughters together. They raised a happy home and were an important part of the community. Since I returned home, I had become great friends with them, learned to embrace their daughters as my own, which was a custom among my people. We looked out for one another."

Chakotay took a deep breath and he looked down at his hands. Janeway could see them shake slightly. As he released a held breath, his hands steadied and he looked up at the panel.

"One night, a Cardassian ship had landed directly in the village square and Sakima was apprehended and tied up in its center. Ahyoka and their daughters were then pulled from their beds."

He exhaled heavily.

It was clear Chakotay was having difficulty continuing. He looked down at his hands again. Tears threatening to fall from his eyes, as the room fell to an eerie respectful silence. Janeway's heart ached. She wanted to get up from her chair and run to him, take him in her arms, and hold him. Tell him it was going to be okay.

In the many years she had known him, he had never told her of his friends Ahyoka and Sakima, and their two beautiful daughters. She wanted to know them now, wanted to hear all their stories, and let them live on through his shared memories.

Chakotay inhaled deeply.

"It was shortly after that when I met Mr. Tuvok. He spoke of a family whom he had lost to the Cardassians. He spoke of his agreement with the uprising of the Maquis with admiration. He told me it was all too logical. It's true, I hadn't known very much about Vulcans at the time, but one thing I had learned at the Academy was that they did not lie. So I trusted him.

"Months later, on a mission to pick up supplies, our ship came into contact with the Cardassian warship _Vetar_ commanded by Gul Evek. I escaped to the Badlands and maneuvered through the Plasma fields to shake him from our tail. He took heavy damage and we were able to escape.

"We had passed through some sort of coherent Tetrion beam when we discovered a massive displacement wave moving toward us. There was a bright light and then..."

Chakotay unfolded his hands and placed them on the table in front of him. "Well, I'm sure you have read the rest in Captain Janeway's logs."

"Thank you for that stunning account, Mr. Chakotay." Rodriguez cleared his throat. "So we can assume you joined the Maquis as an act of vengeance, for your own personal hollow cause? You didn't want the peace the Federation was seeking. You wanted revenge."

"Weren't you listening? There was nothing hollow about my cause," Chakotay raised his voice. "The Cardassians live to make war. They live for personal gain. I watched them pull women and children from their beds and butcher them in the streets. There were attacks like on Setlick III and men like Ben Maxwell and Calvin Hudson to follow. Men to look up to. Men who had witnessed more hatred than any of you will ever know."

"Both traitors to the Federation," Rodriguez said sternly. He pointed at Janeway. "I pray you dare not add Captain Janeway to this list of your so-called heroes?"

Chakotay followed Rodriguez' finger, and found her. His eyes fell to her uniform. "Captain Janeway was different. From the moment she took my crew aboard, I knew there was something special about her. She was easy to follow, easy to place trust in. She never once treated the Maquis crew like criminals. She looked within them and found them roles. Made me her First Officer because she knew the crews had to work together if we were going to make it home. She entrusted B'Elanna with Engineering because she was the best one for the job. She listened. She analyzed. She changed my shaded perception of Starfleet.

"But I felt I had to earn her respect. And with her I found my inner peace again. The Maquis aboard Voyager were treated as equals. She treated us like her family."

"Did you ever think that maybe she was doing that out of desperation?"

Chakotay shook his head. "Never."

"Like a good Starfleet Captain, Kathryn Janeway was following her orders. Waiting for the right time to bring you into custody."

Chakotay caught sight of her again, his eyes lifting from her uniform. She prayed her face offered him support.

"I can't speak to Captain Janeway's initial motive, but I know her to be a just woman. She would eventually see that you abandoned the colonies.

"Even when the Cardassians found their way around the systematic searches by Starfleet, where Cardassians began supplying their army with biogenic weapons to defeat us, you turned a blind eye. When we called for help, you turned your back on us. Didn't want to get your precious perfect Federation hands dirty at the cost of your senseless treaty."

Janeway could see Chakotay's jaw clench and he stood slowly. "You did what was easy, and now you sit up there, consider yourselves big damn heroes. Point your fingers. All I see are a bunch of liars."

Rodriguez straightened. "You're out of line, Sir."

"No, you're out of line!" Chakotay shouted. "Starfleet is supposed to stand for just ideals," he continued. "But it's only when it benefits the needs of a few. The few at the top. Isn't that right? 'To boldly go where no one has gone before' has been beaten into us at the Academy. And we are sent out blind. The Maquis gave the colonists someone to protect them. When no one else would."

"Little good it did them," Rodriguez muttered.

Chakotay ignored him. "You thought you could solve a Cardassian problem with a piece of paper and a few Starfleet outposts. But they fooled you, didn't they? And you handed over our land to them regardless. Land we worked with our own hands. And you left the colonies, and my people, to fend for themselves. And now, you stand by and believe you made a difference, bury the massacre behind the lies you tell yourself, a lie that you were just performing your duty. And then have the audacity to call us, those who were willing to fight for our own lives, 'rebels'? We were the ones willing to stop a second invasion."

"The Federation wanted peace in the Demilitarized Zone," Rodriguez added. "We warned you that those planets fell too closely to the Cardassian border. We warned you that conflict could arise. But you ignored us and when the truth came to pass, you decided to take the law into your own hands. You abandoned your Starfleet principles, Mr. Chakotay."

"Only because you were too cowardice to follow through. My people watched as history repeated itself. While the Federation again became bystanders, just as they did for decades as the Cardassians took Bajoran homes. You watched as attacks took place within the designated borders of the Cardassian empire, and you hid behind your Federation Policy, your pledge not to interfere in the internal affairs of others. You left us no choice. You broke your promise."

Rodriguez offered a short laugh. "Much like the promise you broke to Starfleet."

"I left on my own principles. I resigned to uphold what little good there was left in that part of the quadrant. To save a people from a dictatorship. From the impending doom that was a Cardassian rule. A Cardassian cull. I was willing to fight for what I believed in." He took a deep breath, and placed his hands on the table in front of him. "Even if the powers that be, the powers that had governed the colonies, refused to."

Rodriquez raised his brow from behind the small lamp in front of him. "This is surprising, Mr. Chakotay. Your own Captain, spoke so highly of you. How you upheld Starfleet ideals while wearing the uniform again. How she couldn't have made it home without you. She commended you for your loyalty to that uniform. She promised us a changed man. You have clearly deceived this panel. I suppose you have deceived her as well with your Maquis veil."

Chakotay lowered his head, and removed his hands from the table in front of him. Sweaty palms left behind their ghosted marks. "I have no Maquis veil." He sighed. "Captain Janeway spoke from the heart. I have been nothing but loyal and obedient to her every command. Any ideals she witnessed were because she deserved them. But I tell you, they were not for Starfleet, they were for her because she requested them so readily. And it was easy to follow her. She represents everything I once saw that was good in Starfleet. Before the deep seeded underbelly was exposed to me." He tilted his head toward her. "Captain Kathryn Janeway is the best there is in Starfleet. I hope she can write a new history for you."

He smiled to himself. Straightening his face, he lifted his eyes slowly to the panel. "She will teach you something about yourselves. Much like she did with me."

=/\=

When Chakotay had finished, he took a seat, and Janeway watched as he leaned back in his chair with unease.

Rodriguez turned on a PADD in front of him and scrolled. "Well," he cleared his throat. "It appears things got a little out of hand." He raised his eyebrows and turned his sights toward her. "Perhaps you can bring a bit of order to this procession, Captain."

"Perhaps," she whispered. She inhaled deeply and rose from her chair.

All eyes in the room fell upon her, and they watched as she slowly edged up to Chakotay. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly.

"Admirals," she addressed them. "I can attest to Chakotay's account of our time on Voyager. And I admit, regrettably, that I had become a victim of Starfleet's dark seediness. I was not aware how hard it was for the colonists in their fight before Voyager left dock at Deep Space Nine. I was performing my duty.

"And I will concur with Chakotay's vision of his Captain. The Maquis did deserve my attention. They were members of my crew, and with Chakotay by my side, they became our family. They were dedicated. And when I adopted them as a Starfleet crew, they wore their uniforms proudly. They offered me their duty, and I gave them their respect. Many of them were lost to the cause. It was a burden I gave to them. I would die for that crew, without a second thought.

"Quickly, my naiveté had turned to love. If I asked something of them, they returned my expectations a hundredfold. After our first encounter, I never saw them as two crews. We were one, unified Starfleet crew. We set a course for home, and never looked back.

"So I ask you, Admirals. Hear my plea for the release of my crew you are currently holding. Please take it to the desk of the Federation council, to the desk of President Zife. The war is over, they have already served time for a crime they were forced to commit."

Rodriguez smiled eerily. "Might I remind you Captain, that the Maquis of your crew are no longer part of the Federation. They abandoned their rights and protection of the Federation council simply by engaging in war. Why would we owe them a second chance?"

"I thought I was being clear."

"And let me be clear." He folded his hands in front of him. "This plea will not leave this room. Simply by asking to take this position, you taint the very uniform you are wearing. To be honest, I'm not sure why you haven't been stripped of rank by harboring these known criminals."

"We were 70,000 light years from home." She said, desperation rising in the back of her throat, rage starting to boil within her. "Many of my crew were lost in those first few days. We needed the help of the Maquis if we were ever to get home. I made the executive decision. And I would again. I will take that plea to the President myself, if I have to."

"You will not!" Rodriguez face was red and he took a deep breath. "The President does not have time for this."

Janeway brushed her sweaty palms against her jacket. She could see Chakotay offering a side eye to her but she did not turn away from the cold, black eyes of Fleet Admiral Damien Rodriguez as he tried to burrow into her soul.

Slowly, the side of her lip lifted, her chin raised, an eyebrow to accompany it.

"Oh," she said with icy coolness. "I do believe he does."

Suddenly, the metal doors behind her opened, and she stayed still fully aware of who was entering behind her.

_The game is afoot._

"Admiral Rodriguez," she turned pointing to the two individuals who entered. "I'm sure you don't require introductions, but alas, may I introduce Admiral Owen Paris and to his left, former Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev."

They nodded at Janeway and she turned to Rodriguez who slowly lowered the PADD in his hand.

"What is this, _Captain_?" he said with spite. "What are you playing at?"

She smiled, thin lipped. "Oh, I'm not playing at anything, _Sir_." Admiral Owen Paris stepped forward and reached the panel, handing them each an official Starfleet PADD.

Janeway watched as they picked up the electronic devices and started to scroll. Her sights set on Rodriguez she watched as his face fell from cockiness to despair to disgust.

"Is this a joke?"

"I find none of this funny." She placed her hands on her hips. "You, Sir, are hereby being charged with crimes against the Federation. For supplying weapons to the Cardassians for monetary gain. Weapons that made it to the Cardassians and their colonies within the newly outlined Federation space."

"And just where is your proof?" He scoffed.

"Funny you should ask." She reached for the PADD in Admiral Paris' hand and scrolled. "I direct you to paragraph 17.1, and Exhibit B of the document in front of you." She paused, waiting. "The manifest from the Cardassian supply ship _Ghorran_ before and after meeting with the _USS Covenant_ just inside the Badlands. And transcribed conversations with the Captain of the _Covenant._ One Damien Rodriguez."

"Outrageous lies!" Rodriguez stood, pointing a finger down at the document.

"You thought it would stay quiet, didn't you Damien?" Nechayev spoke up. "But it turns out you have ruffled a few feathers. Even as far as Cardassian space. Even after all this time, they were more than pleased to have divulged these details to us."

Rodriquez kicked his chair back forcefully against the wall. "I will not stand for these accusations. I'll have you stripped of rank, _Captain_!" He bellowed. "You will see your traitor lover locked in chains, your Maquis family banished to a small penal colony at the edge of this quadrant. Oh, I will make an example of you!"

"Are you quite finished?!" Janeway returned deafeningly.

Rodriguez ignored her. "If you think the Federation President is going to read this filth, you have clearly become as delusional as your new friends."

"He will."

"And I suppose you will walk it right up to his desk?"

"No. I don't need to." The doors opened behind her again, and the air fell silent. Rodriguez' jaw fell, his eyes widened. "Because The President is already here."

She tilted her head as Rodriguez found his seat again. She placed a hand to her hip and turned to look behind her. President Zife had entered with two council members. His blue Bolian face darkened as he looked up seeing Rodriguez. She saw the vertical cartilaginous ridge on his face pulsate with the frustration he felt.

"President Zife," Janeway said nodding in his direction. She motioned for him to approach the panel. "He's all yours."

=/\=

She followed him closely as they walked from Starfleet Headquarters. Ignoring the passerby that would stop to notice her. She could hear the hush coming from their voices. Their gasps as they recognized who she was, who she was following.

He turned a slight corner off a path, and she found him standing alone in the midst of sea of pink roses. Her favorite.

The roses were well-maintained; fully in bloom, no dryness to their petals in the heat. Clearly, they were not feeling the desperation that she was for a good rain.

As she approached him, she reached to grab his hand slightly, flicked her finger in his palm, a fragmented touch, and he turned, his head bowed low, a wide proud smile on his face. His teeth shone on his newly tanned skin.

"How did you know about Rodriguez?" Chakotay asked.

"Woman's intuition."

A small crowd had begun to gather around the rose bushes, a few cameras began to peek from behind the green shrubbery. Janeway shook her head slightly but her focus stayed on her former First Officer.

"That so?" he questioned.

"So."

"You're exceptional," he told her earnestly.

The crowd disappeared in nothingness around her. All there was was Chakotay and herself. The hushed voices and clicking of recording devices fell away, lost in the look he was giving her.

"I miss you," she whispered, and she pulled his hand to her lips, placing a kiss to his knuckles. "I miss your hands. I miss them touching me."

"They are ready to hold you again." He leaned forward, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. "When you're ready."

The mixture of his cologne and the sweetness of the roses were intoxicating. "I have one more thing I need to do," she told him, her voice a whisper. "One more thing then I am all yours."

His hand graced her cheek, his thumb her chin. "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 12: "Someone Like You" - Adele


	12. Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Céilí or Cèilidh is a traditional Irish or Scottish social gathering. In its most basic form, it simply means a social visit.
> 
> (Scottish Gaelic pronunciation: [ˈkʲʰeːlɪ]) or céilí (Irish pronunciation: [ˈceːlʲiː]) (phonetically: kay-lee or kei-lee)

* * *

****

“ _I heard that you're settled down_

_That you found a girl and you're married now_

_I heard that your dreams came true_

_Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you_

_Old friend, why are you so shy?_

_Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light_

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares_ _  
__Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made_ _  
__Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_

_Never mind. I'll find someone like you.”_

_-Adele Adkins and Daniel Wilson_

****

=/\=

" _Wanna cup?" she asks genuinely._

" _No thanks," he replies. It is clear from his tone that his intent for this meeting has changed. "You haven't mentioned your letter. Who was it from?"_

_She freezes for an instant. There it is; his curiosity has finally led them to this moment._

_She places her cup on her small table and turns, flattens her hands over her pants, unsure where she should place them. She sees he has placed his hands behind his back, assuming his supportive position; his First Officer stance. She inhales taking a long deep breath._

_It was time she discussed it, and he had a right to know the troubles that plagued her mind._

" _It was from Mark, the man I was engaged to," she begins. "He told me about the litter of puppies my dog had, and how he found homes for them. How devastated he was when Voyager was lost. How he held out hopes we were alive longer than most people did until he realized that he was clinging to a fantasy."_

_A lump starts to rise in the back of her throat and she swallows in a feeble attempt to suppress it. She begs it to diminish._

_Not here. Not in front of him._

" _So he began living his life again. Meeting people, letting go of the past."_

_And me._

_She steps towards him. She continues. "About four months ago, he married a woman who works with him. He's very happy."_

_Was it genuine concern adorning his brow? He edges closer. He tilts his head. His lips purse. His chiseled jaw motions toward her._

_Was his a concern paired with relief?_

" _How do you feel about that?"_

" _Well, I knew he'd eventually move on with his life." Her voice is barely a whisper. "But there was such a finality to that letter."_

_And she is completely, and utterly defenseless in front of him, for it seems a future has been created for her, and it is to be completely wrapped in loneliness._

_Say something, she begs silently. Tell me I'm wrong._

" _Captain to the Bridge."_

=/\=

"Is this the right address, Captain Janeway?"

The house was exactly as she remembered.

It was one of the larger houses in the row. Slightly separate from the others, with a lawn that encircled it. Two stories and a basement, with white siding and an attached workshop, which Mark had planned to renovate into a greenhouse.

The front lawn was marked off with hedges and bushes of bright pink flowers. The winding stone pathway leading up to the front door was lined with rose bushes.

She closed her eyes seeing the pictures from seven years ago, recalled the excitement of picking it from a small selection. The hope that filled her as Mark and she looked to their future. To Mollie rolling on her back in the shade of the newly planted maple tree in the backyard.

She opened her eyes, and the daydream vanished; the empty promises now stripped from her memory.

"Sir?"

Janeway looked up to the front seat of the small shuttle. "Yes, Ensign. Thank you. This is will do fine here." Janeway pulled on the hatch's handle and a gust of stagnant, heated air entered the vessel.

"Just notify us when you are ready to return to Headquarters and I will come to pick you up."

"I will do just that." Janeway released the handle and the door fully opened with ease. "Oh, and Ensign?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Despite Starfleet protocol, I don't like being addressed as _Sir_."

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

She straightened her face, attempting to hide her smile. "Ma'am is acceptable in a crunch, but I prefer _Captain_."

She could see beads of sweat starting on the young Ensign's brow. She waited, leaned forward, her face stern.

"Yes, Captain."

Her smile emerged as she exited the shuttle, and she took a few steps across the road in front of the tight line of suburban homes.

She moved along the stone walkway for the first time in years, and the fragrant roses hit her senses. She remarked how expertly Mark had been keeping up with watering his garden despite the current drought.

She walked up to the front steps and ascended, and with a shaky hand, she reached forward to knock.

=/\=

_The air in Holodeck 2 is a buzz with excitement from Neelix's Paxau program. Crew members chatter merrily, lifting their spirits from the recent anguish at the loss of their first communications with home._

_She sees him from across the large gathering of crew members. He is watching her intently and she can feel his eyes follow her every move. Follow the glass in her hand as it reaches her lips, as she sips the cool contents. Her eyes lift from the rim of the glass. He is clearly unfazed that she is aware she is the target of his gaze._

_A young Ensign catches his attention, calls to him, engages him in conversation. She pats his shoulder, a hand to his chest, and he smiles warmly, finally releasing Janeway from his watchful eye._

_Janeway takes her leave, sneaks out the doors into the cool hallway of Deck 8._

_But she is not far down the hallway when she hears them all too suddenly; his footsteps hurry behind her_

" _Leaving so soon, Captain?"_

_She stops and turns to see Chakotay. With arms pumping slightly, he has quickened his pace to catch up to her. A slight skip and he has reached her._

_The Ensign he was with has followed him out of the Holodeck and has stopped at the doorway, peering around the door's framework to watch him walk away._

_Janeway suppresses a blush, as the Ensign notices her, as she nods to her Captain._

_Was it Ensign Brooks?_

_She stays by the door, and watches as Chakotay skips toward his Captain. Janeway sees her shoulders slump and she disappears back into the party, and as the doors close behind her, the hallway is quiet and cool once more._

" _I'm sorry, Commander," she divulges. "I will have to convey my apologies to Neelix for sneaking out. I'm afraid I'm just not in the mood for partying at the moment. I think I'm just going to head back to my quarters for the longest, hottest bath of my entire existence."_

_He lowers his gaze and smiles. "May I walk with you?"_

" _Please," she motions, and they continue toward the turbolift._

_The doors open as they approach, and they step together within the lift. "Deck 3," she commands._

_There is distance between them, more than the physical space between them in the lift. There are words left unsaid, from a conversation so raw in her mind._

_It's okay to touch me, she wants to say. You can reach out and pull me into your arms, I won't mind._

_They would be safe here in this lift, away from prying eyes. She could steal a moment for herself. Give herself the comfort she desires. Feed the hunger which always seemed to burn in his eyes. Have his hands on her body, press her face against the fabric of his jacket. Offer him a sigh of relief to let him know she was okay. That she was always okay as long as she had him by her side._

_But she stays silent and his hands stay still, and she exhales, lowering her head, averting her eyes from him._

" _Good party," he says._

" _It was," she returns._

_What was it that he had said? Plenty of time. Yes, that was it._

_The lift stops and they walk, and there is more silence between them as they reach her quarters. They stop outside her door._

_I promise you can hold me for a moment._

_She searches the hallway. No one is watching. She could reach out and invite him in. But her hands are motionless. Her mouth refuses to say the words._

" _See you tomorrow over coffee?" she offers._

_He smiles, and there are the dimples in his cheeks, the smile lines which beg her to cup his face, the cleft in his chin which calls for her touch. But she presses sweaty palms to her sides as the door opens to her room._

" _Yes, tomorrow."_

_His lips tighten and press together, and she can envision them playfully pressing against her own; a tongue that is sweet and enticing._

" _Sleep well, Kathryn," he offers finally._

" _You too," she returns._

=/\=

With another knock, she heard footsteps behind the door, and with a beep to the door's security system, the door opened and there he stood.

Mark Johnson's eyes widened at the sight of her and his face was completely taken over with a bright smile.

With a hand still gripping the door, he tilted his head. "You're early."

"I'm sorry, I was sitting and waiting and I thought-"

He reached for her arm, pulling her into the house, and into his arms with force. His arms tightened around her, pushing a slight gasp from her throat, but she relaxed suddenly as his scent hit her.

"Never be sorry. Don't ever be sorry."

His hands moved over her back gripping at her sides, and she returned the strength of the hug, squeezing him in her arms. Slowly, the seven years of waiting faded away.

They stayed like that, locked in each other's embrace until he finally turned his head, his nose burying in her hair, his lips barely grazing the crook of her neck - his former spot. She caught his long inhale as he rested against her.

She released the strength of her grip on him. "Is your wife home?" she whispered.

He pulled from her now, aware of the intimacy of his hold on her. "She's out with the boys visiting her parents."

She opened her eyes wide, brow coming together. "I see."

He coughed nervously. "Can I show you around?"

"I've been here before," she said matter-of-factly.

"Right."

She smiled. "It was a bit more empty then."

They edged their way from the main hall and moved into the front sitting room. Family pictures hung on the wall. There was one of Mark and his wife Carla, holding a small bundle in their arms which must have been their first born, Kevin. A more recent picture beside it; Mother with a tiny Kiernan in her arms, Mark with Kevin on his lap, now a bit older, and two Irish Setters. She recognized Mollie immediately and she reached forward to touch the picture.

She turned away from the happy faces. "I'm surprised you still took the place."

Mark looked up at her slowly, reading her face. "Well it's like you said. You were here once. It was the last place I saw you. And when you were lost, I'd like to think some part of you was still here with me. Maybe I couldn't let that last part of you go."

She tilted her head. "Mark..." she trailed.

There was suddenly barking from outside the house, and they both turned in the direction of the noise.

Mark inhaled sharply, sniffing. "I was wondering when they were going to sense you were here."

She followed him through to the back of the house, to the kitchen where a large double paned, sliding, patio door was overlooking a small backyard equipped with a play structure. He opened the door and they stepped outside into the heat.

The backyard was partially shaded by the maple tree which looked much bigger to her now, clearly having had many growing seasons in the last seven years.

There was another warning bark, and a young Irish Setter, whose coat was a deep red, came bounding over to her.

"One of Mollie's litter," Mark said introducing her. "This is Céilí. Full of energy. She's a good girl."

Janeway reached down to calm the dog that was twirling at her feet. Céilí knocked into her knees, and threatened to jump.

"Céilí like a good ol' Irish party?" Janeway questioned.

"I thought you'd approve."

She nodded. "It suits her."

She looked up as another nervous bark sounded.

In the corner of the yard, under the shade of the maple tree, stood Mollie. Her tail still, her posture forced forward, she remained motionless. Her coat and face were greyer now, and Janeway watched as her nose bobbed in the air trying to get her scent.

"Hi Mollie," Janeway said lovingly, tears coming to her eyes at the sight of her dog. "Come here. It's okay. It's mum," she choked.

The dog's ears perked as a shrill bark sounded. She came bounding toward Janeway, tail wagging uncontrollably. Mollie released a few more screeches as she sat at Janeway's feet. Janeway reached down to pet Mollie, and the dog scooted in a circle, pushing into her legs until finally Janeway's legs buckled, and she came crashing down beside her dog.

Four paws were on her in an instant and the fur and tears started flying. Mollie's tongue found her face, licking ears and eyes and cheeks and nose. Janeway laughed through her tears, her heart feeling like it was going to explode through her chest.

"All right, Mollie," Mark said coming over to Janeway's rescue. "Let's let mum up."

Janeway turned to Mark as he said it, and she smiled as new tears streamed down her face. "It's okay, Mark. Leave her."

Mollie continued to press her bodyweight into Janeway. Paws pushed into her as she lay on the ground, pushing air from her lungs from the sheer force of it. She had waited years to feel this happiness. No one was going to tell her when it was to end.

Finally, Mollie calmed and sat obediently beside Janeway panting.

Her thin, navy blue blouse was covered in dried grass clippings, and as she stood, Mark reached out to brush them from her back.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly. She reached down to pet the top of Mollie's head.

"I'd say she missed you."

"I missed her."

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.

The heat was unbearable in the backyard. She nodded, "A glass of water, please."

She followed him back into the safety of the cool house, with Mollie glued to her side, and Céilí following close behind her mother.

The kitchen was bright with a tiled backsplash of white and grey and blue, and marbled countertops. It was equipped with a replicator and stove with a large range hood. A table with six chairs sat to her right.

"When do you expect Carla back?" Janeway asked.

He handed her a glass of water. "Oh not for a little while. I'm in charge of dinner."

She sipped from her glass, and sighed slightly. "About that."

"What?"

"I can't stay." She looked up slowly. "Not tonight."

"You sure I can't change your mind?" he pleaded. "I was going to make one of my pasta dishes. You had always liked them."

"Maybe another time." She trailed a finger along the rim of the glass. "I'm sorry. Honest."

He nodded sadly.

She placed her glass down on the marbled countertop in front of her. "I'm just going to pop in your restroom."

Having used the excuse of the restroom to explore the house on her own, she climbed the stairs. She wanted to be free to explore at her leisure. Free to let her mind wander of what could have been. Free from his watchful gaze.

She stopped outside a room, and gently pushed the door until it was fully open. A crib was pushed against one wall. A change table to one side. A rocking chair nestled in the one corner. She paced forward flicked the small mobile over the crib with her finger and a soft tune played.

When they first purchased the house, plans for this room had not included a crib.

Mollie had entered suddenly, sniffed and pushed her nose into Janeway's hand. Without looking down, she pet the dog's head, scratched behind her ear, as the dog pressed her head against Janeway's leg.

"Kiernan's room," Mark said entering with Céilí.

"It's nice," she said honestly, a hint of sadness in her tone. "It was going to be my office."

"Plans had changed."

She turned, saw Mark with his head bowed.

"You let me go long before I had the chance, so it seems."

It was sadder than she had intended. She looked around the room, pushing away the tears that threatened to release.

He moved toward her. "That's not true." He took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "God, I missed you, Kath."

"Please don't." She pulled from him and wiped a tear before he could see.

"I can't say I missed you?"

"Not now. Not with all this." She motioned around the room as more tears fell.

He shook his head as his brow furrowed. "You blame me for moving on?"

She was silent. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"What was I supposed to do? Starfleet told me you were lost. I kept up hope longer than most. Then they told me you were most likely dead. It took me so long to accept it. How long was I supposed to wait?"

"Forever."

"Kath…That's not fair."

"Some would."

"You can't honestly blame me. I didn't mean for any of this."

"Right," she scoffed. "Just marry someone from work."

His face was turning red. Disgust was starting to form lines on his face. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Someone from work, she says. That's genius. Talk about double standards." He waited, but she did not counter. "What? No rebuttal? So the rumors _are_ true."

"You broke your promise to me. That night on Taris Seti IV." Tears were falling down her cheeks. She spoke slowly, her words rumbled with emotion from the back of her throat. "You told me you would wait for me. No matter what. Stay faithful."

His voice was rising. "They told me you were dead. What was I supposed to do?" He scoffed. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Fall easily into the arms of your First Officer?"

She shook her head. "I didn't fall easily into anyone's arms. I remained steadfast. And none of it was easy." She swallowed, her emotions noticeably shaking her hands. "I had to find out about our broken engagement in a damn letter. And what's worse. You had already moved past me."

His face cooled, softening slightly. Tears were falling from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kath. It was hard to write that. But I had no other way."

"I wanted nothing more than to tell you I was coming home. For you not to give up on me. You don't know what it was like to be lost out there. I had no way to tell you. No way to tell you I love you."

He reached forward and pulled her into his arms.

"It was heartbreaking to find out you were lost… forever," he said softly. "I had nothing to hold on to. You don't know what it was like for me. First learning of your disappearance. Starfleet not telling us anything. To them giving up. And the memorial, Kath." He pulled back to cup her face. "All those faces. All that grief. And they were looking at me like I knew what to do." He rolled his eyes. "The Captain's fiancé. Surely, he would know. But I didn't, Kath. I was lost. I didn't think I would make it. But they were looking to me for guidance. So I did. Because it's what you would have wanted me to do." His brow furrowed as he watched her face contort. His voice was a whisper. "Do you blame me for this?"

"No, I don't." Her face softened, and she offered a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. Deep down, I knew you'd eventually let me go. But part of me wished…maybe..." Her voice cracked, and she swallowed, as he wiped her tears. "I'm grieving because I never had a say in any of this. I guess I'm just trying to find where I fit now. "

He moved his hands from her face, held her shoulders gently. "And is it with this Commander of yours?"

"He seems to be the only thing I have left."

"Is he a good man, Kath?"

She smiled through her sadness. "Yes, he is."

"Good. I want you in good hands." He raised his palm to cup her cheek again. "Because I know how tough you are. How stubborn you can be." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his lips touched her skin. "You'll need someone willing to take a few of your punches. Go the final round."

He took her into his arms again and squeezed her gently. But there was something final in the way he pulled from her; that she would never find safety in his arms again.

Mollie licked her hand, and she looked down and smiled at her dog. "I want to take Mollie with me."

"No."

She raised her eyes to meet his face, but he was looking down at Mollie who panted happily by her side. "I'm sorry?"

"You can't," he said firmly, and it was clear he did not want a rebuttal.

"She's my dog."

"But what about the boys." Finally, his eyes found her. His brow pushed upward. "It would break their hearts."

"But she's _my_ dog."

"Kath…" His head tilted as he leaned to scratch the top of Mollie's head. He was clearly begging her not to continue, to not make him say the words; _But she has been my dog for the last seven years_. He sighed instead. "Do you think that would be fair to her?"

Janeway knew he was right, and she bent down. She rubbed Mollie's ears with a knuckle and a low rumble came from the back of the dog's throat.

As much as she hated to hear it, he was right; Mollie needed to stay with him. She needed to lie in the boys' beds at night. Needed the love of a busy family. A pair of rough and tumble boys to go on adventures with.

She needed more than just a mother pining for any resemblance of home. Mollie needed to stay.

Janeway lowered herself to her knees as Mollie enthusiastically licked her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked rapidly, fighting back her tears. "Be a good girl, Moll."

The tears fell regardless, and she let them run down her cheeks, unafraid to show him her displeasure. She stood, and with it, let the remainder of her former life go.

"I better go," she said flatly, released heavily with the emotion it carried.

"You sure you won't stay for dinner?" he asked softly.

"I can't."

"Your Commander?"

"Chakotay."

"Chakotay." He repeated his name slowly, memorizing each syllable. He smiled warmly, nodding approval.

"Can I get a raincheck?" She looked down at Mollie again, who barked up at her happily. Janeway ran fingers under her eyes.

"Absolutely. And bring Chakotay with you." He reached forward, attempting to get her attention and she raised her eyes. "We want to meet him."

She smiled tight lipped and nodded.

They headed down the stairs, toward the front door and as he opened it, a rumble emitted from the sky. A few clouds had formed.

"You know, after all this time. They're actually calling for rain."

=/\=

" _Sleep well?" he asks as he pours her first cup of the morning._

" _A few hours." She lowers heavily to her Ready Room couch._

_She looks at him, and there is concern in his eyes. "You should take the day," he offers. "Astrometrics promises a slow journey for the next few days. Go get some rest."_

" _No, I need to work. There are reports to look over."_

" _Reports can wait." He hands her her cup and she sips. He sighs, eyes moving across her face._

" _I'm fine, Chakotay. Really. I don't need your pity."_

_He takes a moment, tilts his head. "I'm not pitying you. I'm just a concerned friend."_

_She smiles slightly. Releases a tiny breath._

_Friend._

" _Still," she sips again, swallowing slowly. "This isn't the first time I've been dumped."_

_His brow comes together. "This is more than that, isn't it? You didn't have much of a say in it, did you?"_

" _No," she pauses, yawns. "I suppose not."_

" _And you probably thought you'd spend the rest of your life with this man?"_

" _I did." She narrows her eyes playfully. "Is this supposed to be helping me?"_

_He laughs, and lowers his eyes to the cup in his hands. She watches his smile, a smile he can't hide from her. "I just want you to be honest with yourself, and what you want."_

_Visions of his lips locked with hers. Of his hands in her hair. "Believe me, I am." She smiles. "Plenty of time?"_

" _Yes, you have plenty of time."_

_She leans backward, cup gripped in one hand. Slowly, her other hand lowers to the space on the couch between them, palm upward._

_Take my hand, she begs behind closed eyes. Entwine your fingers with mine as you once did on New Earth, which seemed like a lifetime ago. What I wouldn't give to have your hand in mine. To feel feather touch across my palm._

_Don't make me make the first move, she prays silently. Do it so I won't have to choose between you and this uniform. Because I could never turn you away._

_But only air touches her palm. There are no lips to graze her own._

_She feels the heaviness of sleep begin to envelop her, and the cup leaves her hand and is placed gently on her table._

_Warm hands are guiding her to rest. Her head carefully places on a pillow. A blanket slowly drapes across over her. She wants to reach up for him, to give him thanks, but her body is heavy, and her eyes remain closed._

_There is a light touch to her shoulder, a ghosted touch to her hair._

_And she drifts, falls deeply into the darkness of a heavy sleep._

=/\=

It was around 1900 hours when the clouds had started to roll into San Francisco, and for the first time in a long time, the sun's rays were barricaded, unable to shine through the vast expanse of clouds.

And it was hours later when Janeway left her solitude, and walked down the long winding pathway between the rows of tightly packed units.

A wind was beginning to roll in from the Bay. An icy chill was starting to invade, pushing out the stagnant, heated air that had taken up residence in the city for far too long.

She looked up to focus on an area of the clouds, watched as they moved quickly along in shades of greys and blues and whites. A few people walked hurriedly to get to safety. Many of her crew had emerged from their units to look up at the sky. Smiles starting to spread to their faces. They waved happily to their Captain, and she smiled, returning the friendly gestures.

Rain, they might actually get rain.

She stopped on the pathway, looking up to watch the display above her. She marveled at the mixing of the clouds, at how fierce they looked. How quickly they moved along, bringing new portions of clouds, new colors of deepened greys and intense blues.

A light turned on above the doorway of the unit to her right as the door opened. Footsteps fell gently on the path she stood on.

She turned slowly, met the eyes she had been missing for far too long. He smiled and instantly her heart expanded to tighten within the confines of her chest.

 _There you are_ , she thought happily.

He edged beside her and reached out to take her hand. "In the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself astray in a dark wood, where the straight road had been lost."

She smiled as he repeated Dante's lines to her. They were from a time long ago when their relationship was new to her. A time when she had asked him if there was a future for them, and just how close they would get.

_Let's just say there are some barriers we never cross._

She smiled remembering his dejected face in the glow of the warp core, and the sadness that filled her as she shook his hand, knowing her future self would never take a chance on a life with him by her side in more than just command.

She smiled as she looked up at him, happy she was wrong – so very wrong.

"I'm not lost. Not any more." She moved her hands upward to wrap them around his neck, pulling herself in line with his body. His hands found her waist.

There was a loud crack and a rumble emitted from the clouds overhead. Their sights turned upward, and they watched as the clouds darkened. As the lights along the pathway turned on sensing the impending darkness.

He reached up to brush the hair from her face as it started to swirl, played with by the wind. "No matter what happens, we'll make it," he said softly.

A drop of rain hit her face and she looked up at him as one hit his brow. She closed her eyes as more rain fell and the skies opened above them.

His lips found hers and they danced with tongue as the rain quickened, as it fell over her hair and skin, clinging their clothes to their bodies as hands moved, taking each other in with seduction.

She had missed his lips, his hands, his skin, the way the light stubble on his chin grazed her cheek, her neck, as he moved along her jaw line, as he rested against the crook of her neck which now belonged to him.

There was another crack above them and the clouds illuminated with a bright light. He pulled from her neck and they looked up as the sky opened and the rain came pouring down upon them. He took her hand and they ran to the safety of the alcove above his unit's door.

They watched the path in front of them flood with water. Watched as the wind picked up and played furiously. The rain began to dance in circles. There was another crack, another flash of light, and she reached out for him, taking his hand. He pulled her in tightly beside him.

Her clothes clung to her body, her hair was matted to her face, and he reached up to push it from her cheeks, from her brow. He leaned forward, kissed her softly, but she refused his gentleness, and instead pushed her tongue into his mouth, guiding him as she quickened the kiss.

"I want your hands on me," she breathed against his mouth, as teeth met awkwardly, as the hunger in her grew.

His hand pulled at her shirt, found the cool, wet skin at the small of her back. "Done."

"But promise me something?" she begged heatedly.

"What's that?"

"That you won't be gentle."

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 13 - "I Miss You" - Adele


	13. Surrender

****

" _I want every single piece of you_ _  
_ _I want your heaven and your ocean's too_ _  
_ _Treat me soft but touch me cruel_ _  
_ _I wanna teach you things you never knew,_ _  
_ _Bring the floor up to my knees_ _  
_ _Let me fall into your gravity_ _  
Then_ _kiss me back to life to see_ _  
_ _Your body standing over me._

_Baby don't let the lights go down._

_I miss you when the lights go out._

_It illuminates all of my doubts._

_Pull me in, hold me tight, don't let go_

_Baby, give me light"_

_\- Adele Adkins and Paul Epworth_

_****_

=/\=

" _We've been down this road before."_

" _Have we?" she asks._

" _You wanting answers to questions you shouldn't ask."_

_She leans forward, clearly wanting more from him. "But something did happen, outside the normal space time continuum._

_But his lips are sealed, his smile is wry, and instead of feeding her intrigue, he drinks from his glass._

_Her sights falling to the floor, she searches her memory and continues. "It's strange, thinking there's a piece of your life you don't know anything about."_

" _Sounds a lot like the future." He reaches forward, picks up the nearly-empty bottle of Antarian Cider._

" _Any predictions?" she asks._

" _Only that in a few minutes this bottle will be empty." He turns to her, offers her a top-up._

_She obliges. "Then maybe you should go to the Cargo Bay, grab another one."_

" _How do you know that's where I keep it?"_

_Her brow pushes together. She leans back. "Oh, I can't tell you."_

" _Why not?"_

_The corner of her mouth lifts, and her smile spreads slowly. "Temporal Prime Directive."_

_****_

_The hours have moved by easily, victim to their discussions of the past, of the present, as they carefully dance around the Temporal Prime Directive and the events of the evening, of his lost hours as he had moved within the temporal waves of Voyager._

_And with each trip he takes to Cargo Bay 2, they grow deeper and deeper into the ease of conversation._

_She has taken off her jacket; he has loosened his. Her boots have been removed to be tossed in the center of the room; his neatly aligned with his chair._

_He moves to the couch, and they sit like bookends. She twists, and leans against the back so she can see him clearly, and she pulls a blanket from the basket on the floor beside her and spreads it over them. They curl beneath it, cheeks heated from the affects of the alcohol._

_She swirls the remaining contents of her glass. "So, how much of this stuff do we really have?"_

_He looks up from his glass. "Enough."_

" _How much is enough?"_

_He drinks and she watches his throat move as he swallows. She licks her lips. "Enough for a few more nights like this," he says. "Or more."_

_Her face grows serious; her eyes searching. She holds the once cooled liquid in her mouth before swallowing._

_He laughs at her sudden nervousness. "More than just at few nights." He raises a finger in her direction. "What did you think I meant?"_

_She cocks her head. "Nothing," She sips and returns his laugh. "I blame the liquor." She reaches forward and picks up the tall bottle with its fine edges. "We might as well finish this."_

_He nods. "Doubt it will keep."_

_She empties the remnants equally into both glasses._

_And with another sip, he tucks the blanket under his chin, and closes his eyes._

" _You look exhausted," she remarks._

" _It was tiring work."_

" _Time travel is never easy, I suppose."_

_His eyes open sleepily. "So, how much do you know?"_

_She looks down at her glass, and runs a finger around the rim. "Let's just say not everything went back the way it should when you initiated the warp pulse." She smiles._

_He inhales slowly, deeply. "So you remember everything? Have you remembered this whole time?"_

_She looks up slowly. "At the risk of disobeying the Temporal Prime Directive, I do." She pauses taking her last sip. "I have."_

_She reaches forward to place her empty glass on the table in front of them, and she can see his dark eyes following her, trying to read her, as the remaining few lights in the room reflect within them. He is searching her face, attempting to get something more from her than the words that escape her._

_She did remember; remembered everything. And the memories had pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind, returning the feelings of those few hours she had shared with him before the events of the Caretaker's array could ensue._

_And the future he had shared with her was her guide, and she followed it as best she could._

_Because one thing had been clear to her; they had had a connection. She had felt it as they moved about the ship, falling between the segments of time. There was something in this strange Maquis that drew her in, something that drew her toward his core. A connection she could not place words to, even now._

_He tilts his head, struggles to hold it upright, fighting against the sleep that wants to take him under. "So you made me your First Officer without question? Because I had told you so, from the future?"_

_She smiles. "No. Well, I questioned it?"_

" _You did?"_

" _For a spit second."_

_He smiles sleepily, his eyes fading. He blinks slowly and closes his eyes. His head bobs for a second and he catches himself, eyes opening. Finally, it slowly falls forward, his chin to his chest as he listens to her continue._

" _To be honest, there was something about you that told me I trusted you, deeply, in this other time. There was something I couldn't explain. And If there was anyone I was going to trust, it was a future me."_

" _Hmmm," he mutters._

_He drifts dangerously, close to falling asleep, and his head takes a final bob to rest against the back of the couch._

" _I could tell by the way you were with me, the comfort, how easily you knew me, the way you spoke to me, that we were friends or possibly something more. It's what made me question..." She stops, listens as his breathing deepens, his mind lost in a dream. "Well," she whispers. "There was all but one thing I trusted this future me with. All but one thing you told me."_

_Just how close do we get?_

_She had asked him it, even with Mark fresh on her mind. Even with the ghosted remnants of his touch still grazing her skin, she had asked this of this known traitor, this wanted felon._

_Her past anxiety of awaiting his answer fresh on her mind, she looks down to see her fingertips nervously dancing once again. The nerves flood her body, as if she were being transported back in time._

_Could they have been as close as she had envisioned? That her immediate expectations of their relationship were to come to pass._

" _To be honest, it wasn't the answer I was expecting to hear," she shares secretly with the walls around her._

_And there were some barriers they never crossed. And the disappointment hits her, grips her chest tightly. She looks up and watches him sleep._

_Why didn't you lie to me? she begs silently._

_How things might have been different between them had she not known their outcome. How she could have given in to those feelings, ignoring her future self; ignoring her burden of protocol and command._

_His breathing was heavy now and she lifts herself slowly, sliding out of the blanket they share, careful not to disturb him. She moves to stand next to him, watches him sleeping peacefully, and a gentle smile lights her face._

_She lifts the blanket over him, tucks him in carefully, and treads across the room to find sleep._

_Hopefully to dream of a different time, of a different future._

_One where she could be with him. One where she could give in and surrender to him. One where she could be free to love him, and finally, after all this time, find the peace she desired._

=/\=

They stumbled through the front door, tripping over a small mat. He reached out to grab the kitchen's island and they fell softly to the floor, holding each other, breaking into a fit of giggles.

She looked up from the floor and searched the room.

It was a mirror image of her own unit; kitchen complete with replicator and oven. But there was something different with his unit. It felt more like home. Maybe it was his small touches. The paintings he had placed on the walls. The books that sat on the nearby small table. Maybe it was the smell of the room which flooded with his cologne, which filled her with comfort.

Maybe it was because it had him in it.

The water dripped from her hair, fell down her face as she rolled beneath him, back flat on the carpeted floor.

Their giggles had subsided and he found her mouth, breathed her in, pressing his lips firmly against her, seemingly pushing her further into the floor. She happily welcomed the pressure of his body, the way his hands found her face to brush her wet hair from her brow.

"I missed you," he confessed.

She smiled. "I missed you too."

She lifted her head and returned his kiss, pressed firmly against him, but he pulled and softened his lips against her, gently searched her mouth with his tongue.

She tore from him and placed her head to the floor, reached to grip the back of his head and fresh water droplets hit her cheek. "I thought I told you not to be gentle."

Sticky skin, cooled from the rain, pulled as he moved up her body, and she wiggled, enticing the chase. His hands felt their way, pushing her sheer, navy blouse over her head. He threw it to the side.

Her navy bra clung to her breasts, and as he forced it down, it tugged at her skin. She welcomed the feeling as it pulled at her nipples, as he grabbed her breasts and continued across her collar bone to take her neck in his hand. She reached up to hold his hand in place, and she gripped it, helped him to tighten his grasp around her neck. She smiled seductively, and he grabbed her hands, placing them over her head, arching her back upward, sending her torso to align with his.

He released her and reached up and removed his wet t-shirt from his torso, tugged at his belt unbuckling it quickly. He ran his hands through his hair, releasing water droplets down upon her torso.

His hand returned to her neck, and she smiled as wet digits tightened slightly.

He leaned forward, growling against her ear. "Is this what you want?"

"Harder," she whispered. "I won't break."

He tightened his grip a bit more, kissed her lips. "No? But I might."

She wanted every ounce of him. Wanted him to consume, to devour, to grasp every inch of her skin until she was completely drained of refrain. Until he had smashed every intricate brick she had built up around her over the last seven years, to have it lay dismantled in a million pieces at their feet.

She wanted new life. She wanted a rebirth.

"Take me," she said.

He pulled at the waist of her pants, unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled them down her hips as she wiggled across the floor. She rolled as he undid her bra, began to crawl from him as he pulled at her panties.

She rolled, crawled backwards toward the couch slowly, watching him strip from his pants, to lower his boxers and stand full of desire, waiting for her. Her hand reached behind her, found the soft cushions of the couch. She rose to sit, legs falling to the side.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, breath quickening as he lowered to his knees and crawled to her slowly, a wild hunger burning in his eyes. The seconds beat slowly, rhythmically following his pace on the floor, deepening her desire to have his hands on her again.

He had reached her, gripped her thighs suddenly, nails digging in slightly. She closed her eyes, as his skin aligned with hers, as the heat from their bodies began to soothe, taking over the memory of their kiss in the rain.

His lips trailed her skin, from her stomach to her chest, chased droplets of rain over her body, to rest on her lips. His hands warmed and pricked, raising skin to meet his fingertips, as goosebumps pushed their way through her flesh, as a shiver danced across her skin.

Teeth gripped her nipple, tongue the soft curve of her cleavage, and he took her breasts in his hand. His motions gripped her middle, pulled indulgence and satisfaction from the depths of her, rocked her slightly as he pressed between her legs, as fingers danced with ease.

Her eyes closed and breath quickened. She gasped, clawed fingernails across his thick shoulders, and just as she found her rhythm, as the motions of his fingertips toyed with her, and her hips began to sway with him, he stopped.

Her eyes opened to see him hovering, and he leaned forward to kiss her, his tongue grazing across her bottom lip.

She watched as he moved across the floor, as his body shimmered from the remnants of the rain, as he moved to the kitchen. He was more defined than she remembered, and she sat forward to fully take in his form, the way his muscles tightened and released as he walked.

He knelt disappearing behind the kitchen island, and when he stood, he produced a bottle of Antarian Cider.

She gasped and stood, gingerly taking steps toward him. "I thought we had our last bottle on Voyager."

He raised his eyebrows, dimples coming to his cheeks. "I lied."

He opened the bottle and it made a delightful pop. He brought it to his lips and drank. He moved around the island toward her, offering her the bottle.

She drank and when she pulled it away, some cider dripped down her chin, following her neckline. She went to wipe it away, but he took her hand swiftly, and reached forward with his tongue instead. He followed the trail, taking her lips fiercely. He pushed her backward, until she reached the table.

"Get up," he commanded.

She smiled at him, fingers bracing, wrapping around the table's edge.

And when she did not move, he repeated slowly. "I said, 'Get up'."

She obliged, and lifted herself onto the table. He moved forward slowly, took the bottle from her hand and drank again. He pushed her legs apart gently, grazed the bottle along the inside of thigh until he was satisfied, and trailed the bottle up her body gently. He brought it to her lips, and she sipped. He pulled it from her lips abruptly, and the cider dripped down her body, to trail between her legs.

She smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Oops." He smiled wide, teeth showing. "Let me get that." He tipped the bottle to pour a thin stream of cider down from her shoulder, following the pathway he had already created.

He leaned forward with lips and tongue and trailed slowly from her lips down her chin. He stopped to place a finger gingerly to her chin, took her lips again before he continued, moving down her chest to push her back slightly, to reach her breasts with his lips.

He pushed her backward onto the table, growling as he lifted her legs, and fell to his knees. With expert tongue, he dipped between her legs, and her hands reached forward, fingers entwining in his hair.

She closed her eyes as he began his work, as he immediately quickened to find her, to have the blood course upward through her body. Her breath tightened, gripped by the familiarity of his lips and the comfort of his touch.

The blackness began to course through her brain and she shook her head as the impulse shot its way upward, electrifying her skin.

She lifted herself to meet him. "We had a deal," she warned.

He rose from the floor. "I want you," was his reply.

"How do you want me?" she toyed, and she watched his touch leave her body, as his hand reached to the floor to pick up the bottle. He drank swiftly, tipped the bottle upward, keeping his eyes on her. He wiped a hand across his mouth, and his eyes narrowed, the dimples falling from his cheeks.

"Get down."

And when she obliged, he turned her around swiftly, and she had to reach forward to brace against the flat surface of the table.

His hands pressed against her shoulders, she heard him drink again, and he breathed.

"Spread your legs." His voice was low, his breath heated.

So she did, enslaved by his tone.

"Wider."

His hands pushed her further forward, until her breasts, her torso, became aligned with the surface.

He steadied himself, reaching for her hips, and pushed forward, thrusting himself within her quickly, hands returning to her back, to rock her hips against the table with his bodyweight. He reached forward, gripping skin, leading his way up to her neck. He held her head steady.

She smiled under his grip, as the pleasure shot through her legs. She reached out to grab the sides of the table and her eyes closed. A deep moan uttered from her throat as her middle tightened, as he eased into the motions, unafraid, enticingly taking control of her.

He braced her legs, her torso, and when the pleasure hit her quickly, from the motions, and the power he had over her, her hands shot outward. He released her suddenly, pulling her from the table while he pumped slowly within her.

She quivered in his hands, clutched his hand to her breast as she leaned against him. He stumbled slightly, and bringing her with him, and they fell to the floor once more, weakened by his control.

His kiss found her and he soothed as he moved down her chin, her neck, found her nipple and pulled it softly into his mouth. He placed his head to her chest. Felt the rise and fall of her breath, stayed there silently listening to the sound of her heartbeat.

She reached down, placed a hand to the back of his head, and he exhaled looking up at her.

"You didn't have to stop on my account," she gasped. "I told you I won't break."

"I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

"Of course I am."

"It's just..." He lifted himself to reach her face. He smiled, dimples returning, bringing with it their reassurance. "It's difficult for me to give you commands."

She laughed and he joined her, and she reached for his face so she could kiss him. His hand moved between her legs and her mouth shot open from her sensitivity.

"But I see you enjoy it."

"It's a welcomed change." She reached between them, finding him still hard and moved her palm slowly up and down his shaft, safely secure in her grasp. "I want all of you. I want you to take me completely over the edge."

He rolled on top of her, moved her thighs to the side, entering her easily.

She released a short breath as her pushed within her. "I've never completely trusted myself with anyone. I've never been this free with anyone. I know I'm safe here with you, and it's wonderful."

"You're wonderful."

Her legs moved to straddle his sides as he moved within her. Her hands moved to his chest, and she dug her nails into him.

"Shut up and fuck me, Chakotay."

He dipped his head forward, dimples deepening. "Yes, ma'am."

=/\=

They had clawed and gripped and thrust their way to the bedroom, skin raw and red never parting; chafed parts of her body, tender from his exploration. They were bruised in places they had forgotten existed, and her body remembered his shape, always waiting for him.

They gasped for breath, knowing they each could give more to one another. Seven years of pent up looks, and smiles, and touches, and innuendos. Seven years of almosts and what-could-bes and what-ifs. Seven years of meals and wants and needs. Seven years of daydreams and sought after release.

Hours moved by easily, without thought, without restraint; hours of their bodies rippling against each other. He was in complete control of her; her hands held tightly behind her back. She straddled him as they sat upright.

She wasn't sure how her legs supported her body weight, but she trusted his hands, that he would never let her fall. So she continued to writhe on him, grinding, asking him for more, begging for the moment to never end.

"Tell me I'm yours," she said.

His white teeth shone in the darkness of his bedroom. "You're mine," he whispered. He moved slowly inside her, pushing upward, deeper.

"Like you mean it."

He released one of her hands and grasped the back of her hair, pulled her ear to his mouth. "You're mine," he said, voice surging with seduction.

She smiled and ground her hips against him. "Again."

"You're mine." He thrust deeper within her.

"Please. Again."

His teeth found her earlobe. "Mine."

She released a gasp, let her body go limp as he lowered her on her back. He continued to growl her name, moving wildly, taking her over. Her mind began to go dark, lost in her passion, his control was freeing; breaking down her walls.

She moaned as her hands left his body, arms falling limp as he continued. His hands were grasping her frantically, one supporting his body, until he found her leg, and lifted it to his mouth. His teeth moved against her skin, and he quickened his movements.

She looked up exhausted, completely vulnerable beneath him, giving in as he took control.

And with a final push, Kathryn Janeway had fallen, deeply tumbling within a sweet surrender.

=/\=

_He wakes suddenly, eyes opening to the ambient purple glow of the room._

_He blinks rapidly, adjusting to the light of the room and rotates his head, cracking his neck. He looks in front of him, missing her form, and pulls his hands from the blanket rubbing his eyes._

" _Computer," he waits for the familiar beep. "What time is it currently?"_

" _The time is 0400 hours."_

_Just another hour and he would need to get up. Need to return to the bridge. Need to head to her Ready Room to begin his day with their meeting and his morning report._

_He pulls the blanket from his body, lifting it one last time to his nose and inhales. Ghosted memories of her scent cling to the fabric and he closes his eyes, engraining it into his memory._

_He places two feet on the floor and slowly lifts himself from his cozy confines._

_He finds his boots where he has left them; neatly placed against the chair he once sat in. He is careful not to trip over his Captain's boots which lay scattered over the floor._

_He pauses, hesitating by the door and turns to tread softly across the floor._

_He can see her darkened form sleeping soundly in her bed, a sheet carefully placed over her, a bare arm peeking out from the blanket._

_He breathes quietly, afraid to wake her, and his mind wanders._

_Just how close do we get? she had asked._

_What would have happened if he hadn't been honest with her? What could have become of them if he had truly told her how he felt?_

_Would today have been different? Would he have been curled beside her now? Carefully caressing that shoulder? Would he have been sleeping soundly beside her, completely caught up in her presence, with no use of dreaming of that moment._

_Could he have been honest with her? That it was her that had always kept them at a distance, that it was always her that pushed them away._

_Could he have found the courage, knowing she knew how he felt? Could he have finally been free to say the words that gripped him? And hear her return them - those three little words._

=/\=

It was moments later when their breathing had returned to normal. When the room around them had quieted. When the air cooled their bodies once again.

She was spent, unable to reach out for him. Her body was raw and red, and sweat had left a sticky film all over her. She needed a shower; needed the heat of the water to soothe her aching muscles, but she could not move. It took all her strength to roll on her side and drape an arm over his chest.

He offered a reassuring touch to her wrist

"I have accepted the promotion, Chakotay," she whispered in the dark. "I'm ready to begin this new journey." She offered him a tired smile.

He turned his head toward her. "And are you happy with your decision?"

"If it means you'll be with me."

He smiled. "Always."

"Good." She released a shallow sigh. "Because I will need your support. Now, more than ever."

He rolled toward her, inhaled as he draped a tired arm over her body. "I have you," Chakotay hushed. "I always have. I would never let you fall."

She looked up slowly, found his eyes in the dark. "I love you," Kathryn said deeply.

He released a breath, tightened a smile to his lips. "Tell me again," he commanded.

She smiled. "I love you."

"Mmmm." He drew her against his body. "Again."

"I love you."

"Please...Again." He kissed her nose.

She closed her eyes, sleep threatening to take hold of her, and then,

"I love you."

* * *

Coming Soon: Chapter 14 "Fall on Me" and Chapter 15 "To Build a Home"...


	14. Fall on Me

****

“ _Sooner or later it all comes apart_

_The walls are all shattered, I'm back at the start_

_And I'm willing to follow this_

_Wherever it goes_

_The heart has its reasons that nobody knows_

_And I wanna believe in a world we can't see_

_Millions of particles passing through me_

_And I know there's a meaning_

_I feel it, I swear_

_I can't see the future, but I know that it's there.”_

_\- Fortunato Zampaglione, Chad Vaccarino, Ian Axel, and Matteo Bocelli_

****

=/\=

The morning sun was at it's fullest by the time Kathryn opened her eyes and turned toward him. The sun's rays were casting down upon him through the bedroom's window, in refreshened beams enlightening his skin. She reached for him, and pulled a thin sheet over her shoulder.

Chakotay opened his eyes feeling her movement, and immediately reached out, welcoming her beside him. She scooted across the bed to place her head on his chest.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, darling."

She smiled against his warm skin. "Morning." Her fingertips danced across him, swirling in circles on his chest, calming as they moved. She reached his shoulder, eyes opening wide, and she jolted upward, lifting on her elbow. "I bit you?"

His eyes closed sleepily as he remembered, a smile coming to his lips. "You must have been hungry."

She leaned forward, pressed a kiss against the mark. "I'm sorry."

He opened one eye, looking at her. "I'm not."

She lowered her head again, and curled under his chin releasing a sigh. "Thank you for last night," she offered, draping her arm over his body. "I've never felt that close to anyone, didn't think it was possible."

He brought his hand to gently draw lines down her arm with his fingertips. "You seemed to enjoy yourself."

She released another sigh, happier this time, and squeezed herself tightly to his body. "I was in good hands."

She closed her eyes enjoying the comfort of his skin, the ease of his embrace, as the suns rays began to heat their bodies.

"You never said," he began, lowering his head to her hair to breathe her in. "When is Mollie coming home?"

She was quiet for a moment, and then finally she inhaled sharply, and he pulled back to look at her. Caught in the safety of his embrace, tears started to quickly well in her eyes, and he immediately brought his hands to her face, soothing.

She shook her head slightly. "No. I'm fine." She sniffed. "Mark thinks Mollie should stay with him." She reached up to wipe away her tears. "And I'd have to agree.

"That doesn't seem fair."

"I don't know. She must be bonded to him. It will break her heart."

"Still," he offered, running his hand through her hair, pushing a few strands back from her face. "She is _your_ dog."

"Don't you think she'd want to grow up in that busy household. With two boys to run around with?"

"If that's what you believe."

"It is."

He kissed her forehead, gently guided her head back to rest on his chest. "That's too bad, I was looking forward to picking dog hair off my clothes."

She offered a slight laugh against his chest, and squeezed him again, taking refuge to hide her face against him. His hand had returned to her arm, his fingertips returning their comfort. "You're all I need, Chakotay."

"I like you saying that."

She looked up at him, accepted his gentle kiss on her lips. "I am so thankful for the moment you came into my life. I'll say it again." She moved her hand to his chest. "I wouldn't change a day."

"Even the-"

She laughed. "Everything." She returned to rest beneath his chin. "I'd do it all again just to end up here with you."

She watched him close his eyes, watched the lines on his face disappear, as dimples faded. He opened one eye, sensing her gaze.

Finally, he offered, "Hungry?"

"Famished," she returned, and pulled from his embrace to rest on her back, draping her arm over her head.

A wry smile came to his lips ,and he moved to hover above her. He pressed himself against her and the heat instantly started to rise up from her toes. "Wonder why?" he growled.

=/\=

The Johnson residence bustled with life as Chakotay and Kathryn entered through the front door which immediately opened as they approached it. Mark rushed to greet them, towel over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Kathryn said, stopping in the entryway. "The door just-"

"That's okay," he interjected, clearly flustered. He rubbed his hands in the towel. "We must have forgot to set the lock."

He was quick to move behind them, pressing buttons on a nearby keypad interface. "Come in. Carla is feeding Kiernan. She'll be right down." He moved quickly to the kitchen and Kathryn followed. Chakotay trailed behind slowly, looking around the house as he went, a short square bottle of wine in his hand.

A young boy, about two years, dressed in nothing but a diaper and a snorkel mask, oversized for his head, waddled by in what seemed to be his father's shoes. He pulled the mask over his eyes, nose and mouth and an instant fog filled it. He looked up at the new guests to their house and giggled.

"Say, 'Hi', Kevin," Mark instructed, which only resulted in the little boy giggling once more and clomping off into the living room.

"It's a nice look," Kathryn remarked to Chakotay, and Mark smiled.

"We are lucky to keep a diaper on him these days." He smiled leading the way into the kitchen. "Once he discovered how to remove it, all bets were off."

Kathryn looked to Chakotay who smiled.

"I'm sorry," Mark said as they all met in the kitchen. "Where are my manners?" He turned quickly, wiping his hands in the towel on his shoulder again, and he reached forward to shake Chakotay's hand.

Kathryn cleared her throat. "Mark, Chakotay. Chakotay, Mark," she introduced quickly.

Both men smiled to one another warmly, and they held the greeting for a good moment, while they looked each other in the eye, a quiet agreement shared between them. The side of Chakotay's mouth turned upward, and he nodded.

"It's nice to meet you, Chakotay," Mark said turning back to his pots on the stove. "Kath has told me a bit about you."

"All good things, I hope?"

"Of course." Kathryn winked. She moved around the kitchen's countertop to stand with Mark at the stove. "Dinner smells delicious."

Mark pulled a fresh spoon from a drawer and dipped it into the sauce gently bubbling on the stove. He offered it to Kathryn to taste. "I understand you're vegetarian, Chakotay."

"I am."

Kathryn placed the spoon in her mouth and nodded approvingly. "It _is_ delicious."

"Pasta alla Norma," Mark said proudly, turning, grabbing a fresh towel from a drawer. "Sautéed eggplant tossed with tomato sauce and topped with ricotta salata over fresh Bucatini." He raised his eyebrows. "I can confirm, none of it is replicated."

Kathryn placed her spoon in the sink. "Do you still grow all your own vegetables?" she asked.

"I do."

"It sounds divine." Chakotay approached them, reached out to offer Mark the square bottle he had been holding in his hand. "This should pair well with it."

"It's Ktarian wine," she said. "Also not from a replicator."

"Wonderful." Mark smiled. "I'll let this breathe."

Suddenly, a loud pounding came from the large, glass double door that lead to the fenced-in backyard, and Kathryn turned to see a flurry of fur and eight paws make contact with the glass.

"Their subtle knock," Mark remarked sarcastically approaching the door. "Hope you are ready for the insanity that is these dogs, Chakotay."

"I welcome it."

As soon as there was enough of an entry, the dogs burst in from the outside bringing with them a flurry of warmed fur and hot kisses. Mollie sniffed Kathryn's pants, tail wagging and she rubbed her head against her in a happy greeting. She sat obediently by her side, and Kathryn reached down to pet her head. Mollie twirled under her palm, and barked a few times, loud and approvingly.

"Mollie, enough," Mark commanded,

"Oh that's okay, Mark," Kathryn calmed. She continued to rub her hands into the dog's ears, and moved her hands over the dog's fur, warmed from the sun.

Chakotay approached slowly, gave her a smile as she looked up at him. "The infamous Mollie, I presume."

"The one and the same."

Mollie eased happily over to Chakotay who kneeled on the floor, lifting his palm so the dog could smell him. Mollie's tail immediately began to wag and she curled to sit at his feet, tongue out, looking up at him in a playful greet.

Heavy footsteps came from the hallway and quickened as they reached the kitchen. There was another flash of scuba gear and his father's shoes, as Kevin ran through to the adjoining living room again, a blanket and vintage rotary telephone toy in tow.

"You guys must be busy," Kathryn added as she watched Kevin disappear into the chaos of the living room, toys having been scattered in all areas she could see.

"Very."

"You're here!" The three turned to see Carla who had just entered the room, Kiernan's tiny frame pressed to her chest with one hand. Her mouth agape, she pushed her long dark brown hair behind her shoulder and moved quickly toward them.

Mark left his work at the stove. "Kath, Chakotay, my wife, Carla."

"It's so nice to finally meet you both," Carla said taking the baby from her arms and giving it to her husband. She immediately reached out to shake Chakotay's hand and Kathryn offered the same, but was instead pulled into her arms. Carla squeezed her and Kathryn patted the woman softly on the back.

Kathryn smiled at her as she pulled from the hug. "You have a beautiful home and a such beautiful family." She held her by the arms. "We want to thank you for the invitation to dinner."

Carla's blue eyes shone brightly, happiness in her face. "Oh it's no bother. Would you like to hold him?" She took the bundle from Mark's arms, a nervous excitement coming to her face. "I just burped him."

"Carla, I was just going to offer them something to drink."

"It's okay, Mark," Kathryn reassured him. "I can do both." She happily reached out for the small bundle Carla offered and tucked him into her crook of her arm.

She looked down at the infant, immediately seeing resemblances of his father as the little boy's face contorted and he smiled, obviously satisfied with his feed. She was not sure what had changed within her, but her heart leapt with joy at the sight of him, at the warmth he offered in her arms.

Just weeks ago, she might have thought this meeting would fill her with sadness, and regret and a desperation for something she could not have, that the past, and the present, and the future were all gripped with a longing she could never be cured from.

She looked up at Mark, who was smiling down at them, at Chakotay who offered the same friendly smile. She swallowed the small lump forming in the back of her throat.

"He's adorable, Mark," she whispered, afraid to wake the child, who had just closed his eyes, finding comfort in her arms.

"Thanks, you wouldn't think so from the noise he can make in the middle of the night. Kevin was such a quiet baby. Never uttered a peep. Slept through the night at only 5 weeks. How things have changed with number two." Mark pulled out a spoon for Carla to taste the sauce. "I think we were fooled into believing Kiernan would be the same. If we had only known..."

Carla with spoon in her mouth, reached forward to smack her husband on the arm.

***

It was true; it was difficult for her to dislike Carla.

As the evening moved on, it was becoming more and more apparent that Mark and Carla were perfectly suited for one another, and a happiness filled Kathryn with relief, something she had not expected.

She had prepared for there to be an awkwardness to the dinner, but as the hours passed, it felt more like old friends reconnecting. Their young boys offered humor to the evening's events. Kathryn could easily see them all becoming close friends.

She reached to take Chakotay's hand under the table and offered a gentle squeeze.

They had both found the future that was meant for them, and maybe she could have it all; just as Phoebe had told her. Kathryn lowered her head and smiled to herself.

Kevin uttered a shriek from his high chair and they all turned to see him quickly turn his bowl upside down, placing it and its contents on the top of his head.

"Oh, Kevin," Carla said, moving to help him remove the bowl from his head. "These days it seems he gets more on him than in him." She picked small bits of food out of his hair.

Two small hands reached forward, grabbing fists full of pasta. Kevin dove into a fit of giggles as he placed the pasta on his head, and they coursed through him, shaking his small body.

"But enough of our crazy family," Carla said, joining in Kevin's laughter. "What's in the near future for you two? Any wedding bells? Any plans to start a family?"

Kathryn coughed slightly on her bite of pasta, and she turned to Chakotay who offered a slight smile. She wiped her napkin across her mouth.

"Honey," Mark began. "We don't need to be prying, do we? Let their feet touch down on solid soil, would you?"

Carla's face turned red. "Oh!" she gasped. "I didn't mean-" she stammered, frozen in her task. "I'm sorry. From what I understood - I was simply -"

Kathryn put up her hand. "It's quite all right," she began. She looked down at her lap. At Mollie's face that had come to nuzzle into her leg. She watched as the dog placed her head on her lap. "Well, we haven't really discussed-"

" _Voyager_ is our family," Chakotay added suddenly. He smiled, dimples coming to his cheeks. "The crew, our people. That is our family."

Kathryn looked up with relief in her eyes. "Yes," she added. "Anything that comes after that, well, I'm afraid even I can't say for certain. But like Chakotay says, _Voyager_ is our family. She and her crew is all I'll ever need. All I've been searching for."

Carla swallowed. "It must have been a special crew for you to talk about them like that."

Chakotay reached out for her, took her hand gently under the table.

Mollie panted at her side and Kathryn looked up slowly. "It was."

Dinner had finished, the boys put to bed, and the stars were beginning to be visible in the night's sky, as Kathryn and Chakotay stood on the front step just outside the Johnson Residence.

"It was a lovely dinner," Kathryn said. "Thank you both for having us."

"It's really our pleasure," Carla said, leaving the doorstep, giving each of them hugs. She held Kathryn by the arms. "It really is so nice to finally meet you."

"Same." Kathryn smiled.

Mollie and Céilí leapt from inside the door and encircled Kathryn's legs, nearly knocking her into a rose bush. Carla attempted to grab their collars, but they squirmed, leaping over the bush onto the front lawn.

Mark called the dogs but they did not budge and instead sat happily, tongues out, tails wagging.

"Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into them, Kath," he said. "They haven't left your side all night."

"Let me help," Chakotay offered and he moved down the pathway to the dogs. Mollie and Céilí happily followed Chakotay back to the house where Mark could hold their collars.

"Good night," Kathryn said to them and moved to the shuttle they arrived in.

They approached the small vessel and the door lifted from the side so they could enter. They ducked, moving within to take their seats.

As Chakotay engaged the thrusters, there was a shout behind them, and they turned to see both dogs jump into the craft. Noses to the carpeted floor, they searched happily over the interior.

Mark approached the vessel. "Mollie! Céilí! Out! Let's go."

Both dogs sat and barked.

Kathryn shrugged.

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but his shoulders slumped and he nodded to Kathryn. No words were shared between them, but she nodded in return.

She reached forward and engaged the door, closing it safely for all four passengers.

Chakotay raised the shuttle and entered the coordinates for his unit. He reached back to pet both dogs on the head, and placed an arm around Kathryn's head rest.

"You said you were looking forward to picking dog hair off your clothes?"

"I was."

"How does double sound?"

He left the head rest and reached down to Kathryn's pant leg. His hand found her pocket and dove within it.

She lifted her hands and watched his face contort as he searched it. Finally, his eyebrows lifted and he pulled out two small pieces of what seemed to be dried meat.

Kathryn's face fell into shock. "You didn't! Chakotay!" she scolded him.

He moved his hand to the back, to two hungry mouths that took the meat from him excitedly. He wiped his hands on his pant leg and looked at her slowly. "What?" He replaced his arm around her head rest. "She is _your_ dog."

=/\=

He entered the key code on the door and it unlocked, pushing open easily. The dogs did not wait for their invitation, and they pushed by Chakotay and Kathryn's legs bursting into the house with exuberance.

It had taken them several weeks to commit to a new house, but after searching through their options, they had finally found a place to call home.

Chakotay turned to Kathryn, reaching down for her legs, and he lifted her easily into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a girlish giggle escaped her and her cheeks reddened. Seven years together and he was still seeing new sides of her daily.

"Carrying you across the threshold," he returned matter-of-factly.

She laughed.

"That's a thing still, right?"

"I believe so."

Chakotay paused in the doorway, smiled at her, his eyes on her lips. She knew, and leaned toward him, safe in his arms. Their lips met, as he lowered her, and he wrapped an arm tightly around as they celebrated the moment.

Slowly, they parted from their kiss and her eyes fluttered open to see him looking down at her. They shared another smile.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," Chakotay whispered as he kissed her brow.

She turned, looked out from his arms at their new house. Arms unwrapped and hands were held, and together they moved slowly over their new threshold. Where new memories awaited them. A new beginning ready to burst at the seams.

A place for early mornings with rushed kisses over coffee before they embarked on their own for the day. A place for lazy weekend afternoons curled on the couch together, reading, wrapped in each other's arms. A place for those late nights talking in bed. A place for kisses and hot showers.

Home.

The air was stale in the house, and their footsteps echoed against the vacant walls as they moved from carpet, to hardwood, to tile. They moved through the house, past the staircase which lead to the bedrooms upstairs. Through the living room, to the kitchen, where white countertops and white cupboards encircled it. The house was adorned with large windows and large bay doors.

The dogs ran past them in a fury of red long hair. They barked happily as Chakotay opened the door in the kitchen which lead to the backyard.

They stepped out onto the deck, watched as the dogs rolled happily in the long grass, as the sunshine gleamed off their healthy coats.

She looked up at Chakotay watched the boyish smile spread across his face. It was the happiest she had ever seen him and she wished his face would never change. That she could never extinguish the joy he was feeling right now. That nothing would alter the growing happiness in her chest that seemed to engulf her daily.

"What?" he said suddenly, feeling her eyes on him.

"You," she said, as she watched him move toward her. Her arms reached up to encircle his neck. "Just you, and this, and them," she motioned toward the dogs. "I'm so happy, Chakotay. This is everything and more." She placed a hand against his cheek. "I love you."

He reached his arms around her, leaned down to bury his face in the crook of her neck and she heard him sigh softly against her.

She was happy here with him. Happy to have his arms wrapped around her. Happy for the sway in his hips and the slight dance in his feet. She let him lead, let him twirl her around. She felt feminine. She felt free.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. So easily he had lifted the weight off her chest; her fear of the unknown. For there was something in him that offered her hope, and a bright look on the future they would share together.

And maybe it wasn't about exploring distant stars, and seeing new worlds, and meeting new life. Maybe it was about exploring this new side of her, this new side she was seeing in him. And seeing what they could accomplish together under those same stars that used to guide them on their journey.

And she looked forward to it; embraced it easily, pulled this unknown into her arms never wanting to let it go.

And she would welcome it without fear.

Finally, he pulled from her, placed fingertips against her earlobe, sending comforting warmth down her body.

"Well," he said softly, tone seductive. He grinned. "Should we check out the bedroom?"

He took her by the hand, fingers entwining, and they moved from the deck. He left the door open for the dogs to happily explore their new dwelling.

The top of the stairs opened to a hallway joining three bedrooms and a bathroom, where a large skylight beamed light down into the house. The air was hot and stagnant in the upstairs; the house's system controls having been shut off while no one was living in the house.

They moved together to the end of the hall where the master bedroom with ensuite awaited. Kathryn moved to one of the two large windows and opened it, looking down at the street below

Chakotay padded softly behind her. "Wait," he said quietly, and he took her by the shoulders. He looked around the room as they moved, and he guided her until he placed her close to a nearby wall. He found her hands, pressed his body against her and she felt the heat rising from his body, felt a light sweat on his skin as her hand moved up his arm.

"Yes," he said pleased with himself. "Right here."

"What's right here?"

He leaned into her, kissed her passionately. When he was satisfied, he broke from her slightly, pressed his nose lightly to her cheek. "Right where the bed should go."

He draped her in a comforting kiss, one hand to the nape of her neck, the other to the small of her back, and slowly he guided her to the floor. They rested comfortably on the room's plush carpet. He held her in his arms, as if afraid to let her go.

She smiled through the kiss. Her hands moved across his back as she gently lowered her head to rest on the floor.

He looked at her, dimples coming to his cheeks. "I love seeing you this happy," he remarked. "And I love that I had something to do with it."

Kathryn reached up to trace the lines of his tattoo across his brow, and his eyes closed, drawn in by her gentle touch. He pressed his face further into her hand until her palm curved his face.

"I love you," she said.

In a flash of red flurry, the dogs burst into the room and covered their owners' faces with kisses, both unsure why they were lying on the floor. Paws pressed into the side of Kathryn's chest. A tail hit Chakotay in the back of the head.

Mollie fell to the floor and pushed her head under Kathryn's arm until she squeezed herself to lay directly in the crook of her arm. Kathryn offered Chakotay a shrug.

Chakotay reached to pet Mollie on the head. She returned a lick to his hand, and he chuckled. "Looks like we'll have to remember to lock the door." He bent down and kissed Kathryn's cheek. "Keep the kids out."

Mollie offered a disgruntled bark.

"I do believe she protests."

"All right," he sighed. "But no dogs in the bed."

Chakotay lifted himself, leaving Kathryn on the floor with Mollie snuggling into her side. The Irish Setter wiggled upward until she could lick Kathryn on the nose.

"Don't worry, Molls," she offered. Her voice lowered to a whisper as she scratched her dog's ears. "When it comes to your dad's rules, I will always get the last word."

=/\=

Chakotay entered their bedroom, dressed in his new formal, white uniform, Commander pips in place. He moved around packing boxes, anxious to be free of their contents.

"What?" he questioned, reading her surprise. "I had to try it on."

"Didn't you say it fits a bit tight?" The corner of her mouth pulled upward.

He ran his hands over his chest, a finger pulled at his collar. "A bit." He winked. "But as I've said - you're worth it."

"Well, you look handsome in white," she countered as she reached for her jacket on its hanger.

"Allow me," he said.

Standing behind her, he helped her into it, slowly pulling the jacket over her shoulders, lightly trailing his thumb over her chest as he zippered the jacket closed. He ran his hands down her body, down her sides, to rest on her hips, straightening, smoothing as he moved.

They looked at her reflection in the long mirror in front of her, at the image of Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway.

Parallel gold stripes ran down her chest, and the jacket fit nicely to sit on her hips. Her hands moved down her arms to rest at the two red stripes on her cuff. Her thumb brushed against the place where they would put her new rank. She lifted a hand to where they would sit at her neck.

She sighed.

"It suits you." A hand was beginning to push under the jacket at her hip, and he lifted his other hand to pull her hair back from her neck, immediately diving forward with his lips.

"Chakotay..." she breathed as his lips grazed her neck, as he gently pressed his tongue to his spot.

She pressed herself backward against him, lifted a hand to his cheek accepting his gift.

"I'm sorry," he confessed. He left her neck and pressed his cheek to hers, looking at their reflections. "Just every time I see you in one of these, I have the sudden urge to get you out of it."

She spun, wrapping her arms around his neck. She held her lips inches from his, her eyes gently playing across his face. "That comes later."

"When there are new pips to adorn this uniform."

A sly smirk lifted her cheek, an eyebrow to accompany it. "Let's not make a mess of them like we did on _Voyager_ , okay?"

"I make no promises."

She kissed him, brushed thumbs against his cheeks.

He was soft and tender, and his lips were irresistible. She craved to be taking in by them constantly, the urge to let him consume her never-ending. Just as they had always shared unspoken words between them, their lips shared all their desires, their love, their passion, meaning words to describe the moment were never needed. She was cold without their touch, without his tongue searching her, playfully dancing with her own.

She had never needed someone's touch before. Never felt she needed someone to complete her. Always thought those who believed in happily ever after were delusional. But he made something course in her veins. Something new. Something she welcomed. Something she ached for. Something that made her believe in an ever after.

Her hands moved to rest palms against his chest, but he didn't release her, arms still tightly holding her body to him. A sadness grew within her suddenly, and he moved, clearly feeling it in her lips.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I just want this to be over." She pressed her cheek to his chest, wrapped arms around him, felt the tightness of the suit jacket pull across her back. "I'm ready to move on."

"Me too," he confessed. "But first we need to celebrate. We need to celebrate you."

She sighed again. "They told me I'm getting the Medal of Valor."

He pulled back looking to search her face but she did not move from his chest. "That's wonderful, sweetheart."

"But I don't deserve it."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it wasn't just me. It was everyone. It was the whole crew." She pulled her head from his chest, looked up at him sadly, face free from lines. "It was you."

He smiled, lips pressed together. His brow pushed upward. "Then accept it for them. Accept it for all those whom we have lost. Accept it for Neelix and Kes. For Miral, born on that ship. For Naomi, your Captain's assistant. Accept it for everyone who looks up to you. Accept it for all the little girls who will see themselves in this uniform one day. Accept for the Maquis you saved. And..." He closed his eyes.

"And?"

"Accept it for me." He placed one hand to her cheek. "For the angry warrior you helped find peace."

=/\=

The sun had nearly set as they made their way to the front doors of Starfleet Command. As they approached, Chakotay clasped his hands behind his back and slowed his pace, keeping just behind his Captain. Kathryn looked over her shoulder and offered a smile, accepting the comfort of him behind her, of always having her back.

They moved across the large entry way, walking by desks where a few officer's sat. A few of them looked up at her and smiled, their back straightening. One woman, a young cadet, lifted her hand and offered a slight wave which Kathryn returned.

Chakotay leaned forward. "Someone still seems to be popular."

"Maybe that wave was for you," she remarked.

"Maybe."

She stopped suddenly and he halted behind her. She looked over her should at him. "Should I be jealous?"

He chuckled.

"Katie!" came a voice just in front of them, and they looked up to see Admiral Patterson turning a corner hurrying toward them.

He reached out for her as he neared, and she accepted his hug. "Hello, Theo," she greeted.

"Oh, my darling Katie, there isn't a uniform that looks bad on you, is there?" he remarked taking her by the hands, leaning back to get a better look at her.

"You flatter me, Admiral."

"I'd bet your Commander here would have to agree with me." He raised an eyebrow at Kathryn.

She ignored him and motioned with her hand toward Chakotay. "Commander Chakotay, allow me to introduce, Admiral Theoderich Patterson."

Chakotay shook his hand. "It's a pleasure, Admiral. As I understand it, it was you that assigned Captain Janeway to _Voyager_. That it was you that gave the orders for my capture."

Patterson's head tilted as he released Chakotay's hand. "Ah, well, I was merely the messenger." He swallowed a lump and straightened his shoulders. "As I understand it from Katie's reports, you are quite the officer. Seems I have to thank you for getting her home safely."

Kathryn lowered her eyes, lips pressed tightly together.

"I do hope you'll be sticking around, Commander. _Voyager_ will be needing a new Captain. I can't think of a better candidate for the job, at the moment." He placed a hand on Kathryn's arm. "Present company excluded, of course.

"Unfortunately, I don't intend to wear this uniform for much longer, Admiral."

Patterson sighed. "I do hope you will reconsider, Commander." He moved his hand to Kathryn's back. "The soon-to-be Admiral here is going to require your help out there. She is going to need someone to depend on. Like I did."

Chakotay lowered his head, unable to reach her eyes.

Admiral Patterson turned back to Kathryn and lifted a silver box, placing it in her opened palm. Kathryn opened the box slowly and Chakotay edged forward to stand in front of her.

"Following your extensive list of commendations, Commander Chakotay here is the last remaining member of your crew to be decorated." Patterson cleared his throat. "Captain, we thought you'd want to do the honors."

Kathryn reached within the box, gently pulling the medal from its case. The medal held weight and she looked up smiling at Chakotay who straightened his back, shoulders square. He looked off into the distance.

"Commander Chakotay," she started. "For your exemplary service to my command, for your self-sacrifice, and devotion to Starfleet, it is my distinguished pleasure to award you with the Medal of Honor."

He looked down as she affixed it to this formal jacket, and he followed her hands as she offered to shake his hand. He gripped her hand tightly.

"Congratulations, Commander."

His mouth pulled to the side as he met her eyes, the slight shadow of a dimple forming. "Thank you, Captain."

Patterson watched them, watched as their hands lingered slightly, and when the pair finally turned toward him, he raised his arm, directing them to follow him. "All right, Captain. Just one last order of business. Your crew awaits."

Patterson lead the way through the building, down corridors to the back of large room, where a door opened for them, bringing them outside to a flower garden with a view of the Bay. Boats quietly moved over the water, and the lights of the city were beginning to show in the twilight.

They turned a corner in the garden, and the immense gathering of her crew opened for them. Everyone stood as they saw her, and she smiled as the warmth spread through her.

There were a few stairs leading up to a small stage where Admiral Owen Paris awaited them. Patterson ascended, and Janeway and Chakotay followed closely behind.

Kathryn raised her eyes to the crew who stood silently at attention. All dressed in their formal dress uniforms, it was a sea of while and gold and black, with happy faces looking up at her.

Her sights fell over the crowd until she reached her mother and Phoebe who sat to the side with other members of the crew's family.

She looked on B'Elanna with infant Miral in her arms. To Tom and Harry. All of them decorated with medals of honor, and she silently wished she could have been the one to have placed them there, to have personally thanked them for their service.

She looked on Seven and Icheb in their Starfleet uniforms. To the Doctor who sat with them. To Naomi, the Captain's assistant, in her tailored junior uniform. To her mother and father sitting with her; a family reunited.

She closed her eyes, pushing down the emotions, and her breath escaped her with jaggedness.

She heard footsteps on the stage, and opened her eyes as Patterson approached her. He held a silver box.

"Captain Kathryn Janeway," he started. "In recognition of your remarkable leadership, and meritorious conduct against the enemy, and in particular for personal acts of bravery displayed during your mission aboard the _USS Voyager_ , and for getting this crew home. Starfleet Command is proud to present you with the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor." He reached forward and pinned it to her jacket, and an immediate applause erupted in front of her.

He reached for her hand and shook it, leaned in so she could hear him. "Well done, Katie."

"Thank you, Sir."

He shook her hand and smiled, and moved to the side to make way for Admiral Paris who approached, another silver box in hand. She inhaled sharply, raising her shoulder square to him. She placed her hands by her side.

"As representative of Starfleet Command, it is my extreme honor to promote you to the rank of Vice Admiral, with all the privileges and responsibilities therein." Admiral Paris began affixing her admiral ranks to her collar, and reached down to affix them to her sleeves.

He shook her hand. "Congratulations, Kathryn."

She smiled, placed her hand over his while they shook. "Thank you,... Owen." He returned her smile.

From behind her she could see a figure move and she saw Chakotay step forward and she turned toward him, tears in his eyes, he opened his mouth and boomed, "HIP, HIP!"

"HOORAY!" the crowd countered.

She turned toward them and they continued their chants, all standing, fists pumping into the night's sky.

She raised her hands in front of her in surrender. "At ease," she offered, and the crowd immediately quieted, all taking their seats. She folded her hands in front of her, fingertips gently touching the new pips that adorned her cuffs.

She cleared her throat.

"I hope you know how honored I am to see you here. How much happiness I am feeling to have you all gathered in one place again. This place, on the grounds of Starfleet Command." She swallowed, licked her lips. "Seven years ago, I made a very difficult decision that left us stranded in an unknown place, with unknown dangers, and not one of you doubted my command. You placed a trust in me, that I can never truly repay. You have been the most dedicated, most loving crew, and wherever I go in the future, none will compare to you."

A few tears escaped her, but she let them fall.

"I want you to know that our mission aboard _Voyager_ was a complete success. And I want to thank each and every one of you, and for those who could not return home with us, for your time, and dedication, and love." She smiled at the crew in front of her, her head falling to the side. "Our journey was one of resistance. Of sacrifice. Of love. Of family. Of trust. And wherever your next posting takes you, I want you to remember - This is who we are. This is the _USS Voyager_." She raised a fist. "To the journey!"

The crowd stood in unison that the ground beneath her shook as 151 souls stood for her. "To the journey!" they countered.

They continued to chant as the tears came to her eyes, falling proudly down her cheeks without refrain. Fists shot into the air with each resounding chant. The force of which pushed through her, made her heart feel like it was going to explode.

Behind her, she heard Chakotay chant as well and she turned to him to see his look of intensity as he joined with the crew.

In this moment, Admiral Paris approached her, and taking her by the shoulders, he turned her toward the skyline, pointing up into the distance. She followed his hand toward the slight dusting of deep blue clouds in front of them.

Slowly, a darkened form peaked through the clouds. As it drew near, its shape started to come into focus. Her lips parted and her mouth opened.

Chakotay watched her, and he too, turned to the horizon.

Through the cloud broke the silhouette of the _USS Voyager_ , quietly moving toward them; its deflector dish aglow above the city of San Francisco. She quietly hummed over the city's twinkling lights, serenaded by the eruption of cheers below.

Fireworks lit up the twilight sky in reds and blues and yellows.

The crowd behind her joined in the city's chorus and the cheers resounded in Kathryn's ears as her tears fell down her cheeks.

Chakotay edged beside her as Admiral Paris took his leave. He wrapped an arm around her. "You okay?" he asked.

Kathryn nodded, a peaceful bliss lighting her face. "She's home."

=/\=

_fin._

* * *

Next... After Credits Scene. "To Build a Home..."


	15. Ever After

_****_

“ _There is a house built out of stone._

_Wooden floors, walls and window sills._

_Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust._

_This is a place where I don't feel alone._

_This is a place where I feel at home._

_And I built a home._

_For you._

_For me.”_

_\- Jason Angus Stoddart Swinscoe, Patrick Watson, Philip Jonathan France and Stella Page_

_****_

=/\=

_A speeder hover bike travels down a dirt road. Turns and turns down roads lined with acres of produce. Golden wheat passes by her quickly. A few trees line the road._

_The rider switches gears and turns slowly into a lane._

_A single oak tree stands on the property's front yard. Tall, having seen many years pass by it. Bolts hold it together, much like herself._

_She brings the bike to a stop. A red haired Irish Setter greets her happily. She barks a warning. Sniffs the air as the rider removes her helmet. Blond hair cascades down her neck._

_A hand painted with Borg technology reaches out as the dog approaches and does not shy away, and accepts the dog's happy greeting. She watches as the dog happily returns to their spot on the front porch of the large stone house._

_A barn is to the right and she pads across the freshly cut grass to reach the wooden door. It opens with a creak and she enters inside._

_Housed on the walls are signs from different areas. A canoe hangs from the roof of the barn, held up across wooden beams. Like the oak out front, it has seen many years._

_She moves to her right, as something draws her attention. A plaque sits on the wall of the barn. She runs fingers over the embossed metal._

_U.S.S. Voyager_

" _I thought I heard someone pull up," a voice behind her says. "My apologies. I didn't know I had an appointment."_

_She turns._

" _Seven?" Chakotay exclaims._

_He takes a few steps toward her, drops the towel in his hands._

_His hair is long, and silver now, pulled back in a low ponytail. He is dressed in a brown tee, a woodworking leather apron wraps around his waist._

_She turns fully, and he takes a few more steps to meet her at the plaque. "It's Annika now," she tells him._

" _Annika," he smiles. "It has always suited you better."_

_She smiles and turns back to the plaque. "For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the World, and all the wonder that would be..."_

" _Alfred Tennyson," he continues reading._

_She turns. "That's what this is about." She inhales deeply, cocks her head to the side. "Is she here?"_

_He leads the way through the barn, out a rear door that opens to a small garden surrounded by wheat fields. The sun is warm. The air is still and smells of earth._

" _Kathryn," he begins._

" _Yes, what is it?" a voice from below tall green plants calls out. "I heard the dog barking."_

_When no one answers, she raises her head. Her hair is a silver blond and is pulled back from her face, long strands drop past her shoulders. She walks slowly from the tall Talaxian tomato plants she is tending. She carries a bowl of freshly ripened produce. Her eyes squint in the near distance, to the figure standing with Chakotay._

_She drops the bowl carelessly to the ground and moves toward them._

" _Seven?"_

" _Annika," Chakotay corrects gently._

" _Of course, Annika." Her voice lowers, barely a whisper. "Where have you been?"_

_New lines grace the former Admiral's face, altered by time and experience. Tight lips turn into a smile as her brow raises lovingly. Kathryn Janeway reaches out to take Annika's face in her hands._

_She smells of earth, of home, and the former Borg drone closes her eyes, and lets her former Captain take her into her arms. She lowers her head to Kathryn's shoulder and releases a heavy breath, letting years of longing drain from her body. And for a moment, she forgets the pressure of the moment, the uncertainty of the future._

_Finally, she pulls away from her, and lowers her eyes. "Unfortunately, I don't have much time."_

" _What is it?" Concern spreads across Kathryn's face._

" _I need your help."_

* * *

* * *

THANKS:

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for reading this, for continuing through this journey with me. It was scary coming to a well-established fandom like _Voyager_ , and I want to say all your kind words have made me feel so welcome.

It was also scary writing fanfiction again after being away from it for 10ish years. And in diving into these new characters, I felt I had a duty to treat them with utmost respect – like I do every time I write.

But Voyager was special.

Your comments and kudos have kept me going when I thought that I was writing complete rubbish, so thank you for liking and commenting. It was a hard thing getting used to this new fanfiction writing/posting. Fandoms have truly changed over the years.

I want to thank Memory-Alpha.fandom and some Memory-Beta for those names that weren't in the show, just to keep it feeling real for you novel readers. To Chakoteya.net for providing me with the scripts. And of course, all the artists and their lyrics that helped to convey the tone of each chapter.

I only hope I did some justice with these characters, and that maybe, perchance, you may want more.

_\--DMK_


End file.
